Something Better
by DreamFlight
Summary: Annalise may be the daughter of the Pirate King, but she dreams of a very different life. A deal made with Calypso brings not only new adventures, but the return of a certain exCommodore, complicating matters of course. PostAWE, Spoilers, NorringtonOC
1. Beginnings

_**Something Better**_

_Hey there! This is my first POTC fic, so I hope it's enjoyed. This first chapter picks up nearly ten years after the after-credits scene (so basically twenty years after the events of the movie). Any future chapters will take place more or less another 8-10 years after that. So yes, Elizabeth will be old in this story. I've read a lot of conflicting theories on the terms of Will's captaining of the Flying Dutchman. For my purposes, I'm assuming that the deal is more or less permanent, with Will only getting that one day each ten years. I'm also going to tell you right now that Norrington is my favourite character in the movies, so if you don't like him, you probably won't be all that fond of this story. hint hint_

_Now… onto the story._

**Chapter 1: Beginnings**

"Mother," an alert little voice chirped from the ship's bunk. "Can I hear a story?" Brown eyes shone in the warm light of the small cabin.

A small sigh escaped the Pirate King's red lips. "Of course," Elizabeth replied. "Which one do you want to hear tonight?" She smiled at her youngest child, treasuring the thought that in just a few weeks Will would finally get to meet his daughter. "Maybe one about Captain Jack Sparrow?" she offered, her voice taking on the passionate tones she reserved for relating the adventures of her youth. "Or about your father when we got married…"

"I want to hear about Norrington!" Her daughter interrupted eagerly, her earnest young face bright with a smile.

A certain fleeting sadness flashed through Elizabeth's eyes, even as she smiled and shook her head. "Always Norrington." She said fondly. "Why do you always want to hear about him, Annalise?"

The young girl frowned for a moment, thinking intently. "Because he's the most romantic." She said after a long moment.

A smile tugged at the corner of Elizabeth's mouth as she remembered the often stiff and awkward manner Norrington had possessed. She didn't think romantic had ever been one of the words she'd have chosen to describe him, though he probably had been a romantic, in his own way. "You don't think your father was romantic?" She asked her daughter with a playful pout.

The young girl shook her head adamantly. "You and daddy got married in the middle of a battle on a pirate ship, by Captain Barbossa. That's not romantic." She crossed her arms resolutely. "Not romantic at all."

Elizabeth smiled. "If you say so." She murmured softly, silently disagreeing with her daughter. She settled herself down onto the corner of her daughter's bunk. She watched Annalise squirm into a sitting position under her heavy blankets.

"And I'll never get to meet him," Annalise continued softly. "I know Captain Jack, and we're meeting daddy soon…" she let the sentence trail off. With the Pirate King for a mother, death wasn't an unknown concept – merely one she preferred to avoid.

Elizabeth didn't meet her daughter's eyes, choosing that moment to instead begin her story. It was well known to Annalise, as all her mother's stories were, but her eyes betrayed her emotions, and when Elizabeth recalled the kiss on the deck of the Flying Dutchman, her daughter gave a slight, fluttering sigh. And when the story concluded with James' collapse onto the deck, mortally wounded, Annalise's eyes were bright with the potential of tears.

At that moment, a warning bell rang and a frantic crewman burst through the door of the cabin. "Captain!" The man cried, desperation in his eyes. "There's a vessel approaching from the starboard. Their guns are out!"

With that, the motherly storyteller disappeared, leaving the well-tested and fierce king of the pirates in her place. "All hands to stations!" She cried in reply, her voice taking on a harsher tone. She turned back to her daughter. "Stay here. If we're boarded, hide. Understand?"

Annalise nodded her head in reply to her mother's clipped sentences. This was a well-known drill to her. Her mother was one of the most respected pirate captains on the seas, but there were still those foolish enough to challenge her on occasion. She waited for her mother to leave the snug cabin, already barking orders to the lucky enough to have joined her crew.

With keen, sharp eyes, Annalise slipped out of the cabin, her white nightdress standing out in the dark hold of the ship. She scrambled up little-used stair and tucked herself between several large crates bound to the deck. From here she could see everything that happened, even if she couldn't be part of it.

"Mother!" She heard her older brother, William, cry, tossing a pistol their mother's way. Being nineteen, he was fully expected to fight as part of the crew. Annalise watched her brother tighten the bandana wrapped around his head, a cutlass between his teeth, a sword and several pistols strapped to his side. To her young mind, she wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. Her brother was a gentle soul to her, fond of nature in a way their mother could only shake her head at.

As the opposing side neared, Annalise tucked her self low to the deck. It was dangerous for her to be up here when cannons were firing, but for the past several years she'd secretly refused to remain below while the rest of her family fought for their lives. It didn't seem right to her. The boom of cannon fire and the flashes of exploding gunpowder filled the inky night. Annalise held her breathe as she watched several pirates from the other side attempt to swing across to their ship.

Her mother moved with the deadly grace of a tiger. Those who came up against her, if they lived, spent the rest of their lives in a reverent fear of her. She was the king of pirates, and she lived up to the name. Annalise watched her mother cut down those who threatened her family and her crew. Her brother's swordsmanship was possibly even better than their mother's, but he lacked their mother's catlike grace.

The battle was over soon enough. Her mother walked slowly among those who had surrendered to her crew. They stood with hunched shoulders and fearful eyes, their feet shuffling slightly. "You're free to go." She said finally. "But load whatever cargo you are carrying onto my ship first, and then remember never to cross Captain Turner again!" The men looked up at her with expressions of bewilderment. "Well what are you waiting for?" She snapped. "Get to work!" With a watchful eye, she observed the men from the other crew scurry to follow her orders. A hint of a smile spread across her lips as she watched the dark horizon with satisfaction as the offending ship limped into the distance.

Annalise allowed a small sigh to escape her lips, slinking quickly back down the small stairs to her tiny cabin. She tucked herself into her bed and shuffled the covers until it looked like she'd been tossing and turning. Swiftly blowing out her lantern, she stilled as footsteps sounded outside her door. It creaked open slowly. "You were on deck again, weren't you?" William's warm tone washed over her. A faint smirk danced across his lips in the faint light from outside her room.

"Shhh." She hissed back from under the covers. "Mother will hear you!"

He brother leaned casually against the doorframe. "Do you really want to be part of the fight so badly?" He asked casually, inspecting the doorframe.

"I just don't want to leave you guys alone." She whispered softly. "I don't want to be left alone."

"But that's the Code." Her brother replied equally softly. "Whoever falls behind…"

"The Code is wrong!" Annalise cried, furiously interrupting her brother. She sat bolt upright now. "It's not right and it's not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Anna." William said softly. "If it was don't you think our father would be here now?"

Annalise stared at her brother, a few tears running down her cheeks. "I just don't want to be alone." She whispered hoarsely.

Her brother sighed softly, shaking his head as he walked over to her bunk. "No one does." He said softly, sitting on the corner of her bunk and pulling his little sister into his arms. "But we're pirates," he murmured. "And its too dangerous for you to be up on deck when you're still just little and don't know how to fight.

"I don't want to be a pirate." Annalise whispered brokenly, her voice raspy. "I wish I could just have a normal life with a father and tea parties and pretty dresses…" Her brother's laughter interrupted her.

"Oh Anna," he said, still laughing. "You'd be so bored with a normal life. You love the adventure. You know you do." Annalise pouted up at her older brother. Standing, he tousled her brown hair. "Just be careful, alright?" He stood still for a moment. "And I want to start teaching how to use a sword. Mother's been putting it off."

Annalise watched her brother leave the small cabin, quietly shutting the door behind himself. She felt suddenly very small, and a mess of conflicting emotions. Part of her was eager to learn how to use a sword. She could then fight with her family, and be a… a pirate. She chewed her lip in the silent darkness. But part of her was quietly longing for a tamer life. One where she didn't need to know how to use a sword, simply because there was some great hero willing to risk his life for her's, only he'd be so good with a sword he wouldn't really be risking his life.

A single tear ran down the cheek of the young girl as she wrestled with troubling thoughts. Her mother was so sure. So beautiful, despite the tiny lines that were slowly forming around her eyes; so confident, despite the strange life she lived. Could she ever measure up to that? But her mother was also deadly. She was rough and temperamental, impatient, unsympathetic, and anything but ladylike. She blinked softly, unsure of whether she wanted to be like her mother at all.

_Well, let me know what you think! The story really begins next chapter..._


	2. Sweet Little Lies

_**Something Better**_

_Years later…_

**Chapter 2: Sweet Little Lies**

A young woman stood on the bow of the ship, _Freedom_. She leaned over the railing slightly, her arms crossed on the wooden railing. The wind tossed and tumbled through her wavy golden brown hair. Lost in thought, Annalise was a picture of beauty at eighteen. Her chocolate brown eyes were dreamy, and it was her nature to while away hours simply watching the horizon, daydreaming.

It wasn't so much that piracy itself bothered her, she mused to herself, it was merely that something seemed to be lacking in her eyes. There was a general lack of beauty in the everyday living of life. One might think that being the captain's daughter one would be spared menial tasks like scrubbing decks, but not Annalise. She smiled wanly; her mother insisted that everyone learn how to work hard. And not even the daughter of the Pirate King argued with the Pirate King.

"Anna!" A deep masculine voice called from across the deck. "Tie down those lines!" Annalise sighed, heaving the lines and tying them quickly. She wished she could at least say that it had been done with grace, but truly, what grace could be found in heaving lines?

She shook her head and turned back in her brother's direction. "Tied down!" She hollered back across the deck, her eyes straying back to the horizon.

"Great. We'll be in Tortuga before nightfall!" He replied back.

"Yippee." Annalise muttered sarcastically. "Let's all get drunk and start some bar fights." She grimaced slightly. Tortuga was not on her list of top destinations. She sighed softly, she was a crappy pirate. The only trouble being that she wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad thing in general.

* * *

"Anna, we're headed for The Soggy Saucepan, want to come?" One of the crew offered, as Annalise stepped off the ship. 

Annalise shook her head, "No thanks." She paused for a moment. "And it's Annalise, not Anna." But the sailors had already headed down the dock into town. She sighed softly, once again alone. She tapped the hilt of the sword that hung from her hip impatiently. Her mother and brother had disappeared ages ago, eager to sign up an extra deckhand or two. If Annalise could give her mother credit for one thing, it was certainly that she knew how to pick a crew. By watching carefully and testing each potential recruit, her mother ensured the crew was composed of good fighters and good men. _Freedom_ had a certain sense of dignity that many other pirate ships lacked.

Annalise wandered down the path, and through the dirty town, eventually making her way to a slightly more reputable establishment. Installing herself at a table by a window overlooking a small sandy cove, she ordered a single glass of white wine, a drink most places in this often-violent port didn't serve at all. She sipped the sweet Riesling while her eyes wandered across the shore, losing herself to her daydreams.

On a very different shoreline, she could picture herself in a pale blue dress. One with an embroidered bodice, and a full skirt that would twirl and swish as she walked. She could see herself daintily holding a parasol in white-gloved hands. She'd look lovely then, her hair tamed into shining tresses, rather than their current sun-bleached straggles. And she'd stroll along the harbour front, in a clean town with pastel-painted houses and clean ships with smartly dressed crew. Oh how sick she was of wearing hemmed up hand-me-downs, and seeing others wear nothing but rags!

She would stroll then, arm in arm with a fine gentleman. One with good manners and clean clothes and a sense of honour. Features blurred in her mind, but he always had green eyes. Green eyes and brown hair, rather like the only gentleman in her mother's stories. Alright, so exactly like in her mother's stories.

Annalise let a frustrated sigh escape her lips. Was it wrong to fantasize about a guy who'd been dead nearly thirty years? She chewed her lip, contemplating the answer to this question for the millionth time. Certainly it was odd, but among pirates, she was exceptionally odd. She didn't want to be a pirate. She wanted to look sophisticated, and she wanted to have a garden, and a cat. She didn't like rum.

Helplessly she giggled at herself, startling the quiet atmosphere of this tiny establishment. She blinked and her long eyelashes blurred the world slightly, catching on the tiny teardrops that didn't quite threaten to fall.

"Miss?" a young voice enquired. Annalise lifted her head to meet the blue eyes of a young man, not much older than herself. "I couldn't help but notice you sitting here alone and I wondered if I could join you?" Annalise sized the young man up. He was dressed in the tattered rags of a pirate, his face smudged with dirt. He seemed to be missing a tooth or two when he smiled at her.

"I suppose." She replied, attempting to cover the scorn in her voice. He seemed polite enough, so maybe it was worth giving the poor guy a chance.

"You look beautiful." The young man said eagerly, sliding into the seat beside her rather than across from her as she'd hoped he would. Annalise felt her muscles tensing as the young man sat quite close to her, and pulled the chair ever closer to her own. Far closer than was proper in fact. But then again, she thought bitterly, this is Tortuga. What was she thinking hoping for propriety in a port like this one?

"Thank you." She replied stiffly. She decided to go for the blunt approach. "I'd rather you sit across from me though."

"Why?" The young man said, innocently enough, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to his side. "If I sat there I couldn't get close to you." His breathe was hot on her face and stank of cheap rum.

"That was rather the idea." Annalise stated icily, her brown eyes flashing dangerously. "I demand you unhand me immediately."

"But you're far too pretty for me to do that. And you're…" The young man cut his sentence off abruptly when a small dagger suddenly appeared through the hand that had been moving towards Annalise's thigh. "My hand." He gasped, staring at the blade that now stuck through it.

"Should I have warned you that your hand was in danger?" Annalise quipped softly, pulling the dagger back out of the man's hand. "I would have thought you might have been intelligent enough to have figured that out yourself." She smirked darkly.

"You…" The man sputtered, his face reddening with rage. In an instant, he had his own dagger drawn and was leaning in towards Annalise once more, only to find her gone, having leapt neatly from her seat over the table to land in a somersault on the floor beyond.

"I'm afraid I have another pressing appointment." She spat at her offender as he rose, attempting to draw his sword with his uninjured hand.

"I'm not finished with you yet!" The man cried, pulling his sword out awkwardly and rushing at her. With a few neat strokes, she'd sent the man's sword flying across the room. This was all the time the other guests to the small tavern required to join the fray. Annalise ducked and weaved her way out of the fighting mess, slipping silently from the tavern.

"Annie-belle! Taking after your mother already!" A familiar voice cut through the air.

"I am not like my mother!" Annalise cried, spinning around and slashing her sword through the air, stopping a mere inch from the neck of the speaker.

A strangled, disgusted sound escaped the throat of Jack Sparrow. "Now why is it everytime I tangle with your lovely little family I wind up with a sword at my neck?" The eccentric pirate waved the sword blade away from his throat. "I was merely commentating on the rapidity with which you began a most thrilling barroom brawl in a tiny, backwater, nearly-empty establishment."

"You were watching, Uncle Jack?" Annalise replied, sheathing her sword by her side, intently focused on her attempts to control her temper.

"Captain Uncle Jack." The pirate waved a finger at Annalise. "And yes. Annie-belle, I was watching indeed. A most thrilling adventure."

"You were watching and you didn't help me?" Annalise said softly, in short clipped tones that betrayed her still-simmering anger.

"What would be in it for me?" He looked at her blankly.

Annalise let a strangled cry escape her lips. "Pirates!" She cried, spinning on her heel and stalking in the direction of the ship. There was no winning in this town.

"Annie-belle," Jack's voice teased as he rushed to keep up with Annalise as she fumed, "It's a very sweet little lie that you're telling yourself, but you are every bit your mother." He paused, waving his hands as if the motions would elaborate for him. Annalise didn't throw a backwards glance. "O c'mon Anna! It's no fun if you don't pay attention to your dear Uncle Captain Jack."

Annalise could just picture her "uncle" standing behind her, the picture of dramatic art. But she wasn't at all in the mood for it. Especially not if he was just going to tell her what she did not want to be true. "I am not my mother." She hissed, stalking the streets angrily.

As her anger faded, Annalise slipped into the growing shadows around the town. She paused as she climbed up the gangplank onto the ship. She took a backwards glance of Tortuga – the dirty, pungent pirate port and sighed. Her ideal world seemed so very far away. All the men she knew were pirates, dirty and selfish and uncouth. So very different from the men… man she dreamed of.

She moved to the bow of the ship and stared out over the dark water. The stars that shone above her reflected on the water's surface. "Is it so very wrong to want a different sort of life?" She asked the waves hitting against the hull of the ship below her. "Is it so terrible to want something better?" Anguish cut through the teenage girl's voice.

Beneath her, the waves hitting the hull picked up in momentum and speed, licking higher up the hull of the ship in the blackness of night. A sound like a sigh, or silky laughter echoed in the splash of the waves below, unheard by the woman above.


	3. An Easy Deal

_**Something Better**_

_A sound like a sigh, or a silky laughter echoed in the splash of the waves below, unheard by the woman above…_

**Chapter 3: An Easy Deal**

The night settled in around Annalise as she sat on the solid wooden deck of the ship. Her head leaned back against the ship's wheel, her legs folded under her: a picture of wistful melancholy. The breeze was picking up, tangling her dark hair into a mass of twisted waves, but Annalise sat still. A few crew members tumbled drunkenly onto the deck and stumbled down below, but still she sat her silent vigil against the night.

Suddenly the wind blew fiercely, rocking the boat and sending waves splashing around the ship and salt spray whipping across the deck. Annalise lifted her arms to shield her face from the water, only to never feel a single drop of moisture hit her. Lowering her arms slowly, her eyes widened at the sight of the strange woman who now stood before her.

With dark, knowing eyes the strange woman spoke, "Be it so bad to want somet'ing more?" She said cryptically, her hair dreadlocked and her skin a dark bronzed colour. "Be it so bad to want somet'ing bettah?" Her dark lips smiled at Annalise, though her eyes remained unreadable.

"Who… who are you?" Annalise whispered softly, though in her mind pieces were slipping together rapidly. Her mother had spoken of a woman who had looked like this. A powerful woman who brought men back from the dead, and had turned out to be a goddess bound in human form. Annalise gasped softly, this was Calypso herself!

"Ah, ye know me." The dark woman remained smiling, her manner one of complete confidence and assurance. Her tone and accent utterly foreign, but still pleased. "I have a deal for you." She began seductively. "I hear ye and I feel your longin' all across the oceans."

"What are you talking about?" Annalise whispered softly, fear mingling with curiousity as she mentally put aside her mother's warnings.

"De Pirate Brethren, dey plan to bind me once more. Dey donna wan' me to have my powers." The goddess replied with frown. "I need someone to speak for me."

Annalise exhaled slowly, suddenly realizing she'd been holding her breathe. "They want to bind you?" She said, incredulously. She might not be a great pirate, but her love of the ocean and its changing moods was as strong as in anyone. "Well that's not right," She began. Her eyes narrowed. "But why are you coming to…" Annalise gasped softly. "You want _me_ to speak for you?" She stared wide-eyed at the goddess who was once again smiling, nodding her head slightly in assent. "You want me to speak before the Pirate Brethren?" Her tone became slightly shrill. "But… why me? Why not get my mother to do it? She's the Pirate King…" Annalise trailed off as she watched Calyso's expression fall.

"Your mother, she be agains' me too." Annalise rose shakily to her feet from the deck. Standing, she realized that she was taller than the goddess, in this manifestation anyway.

Hesitantly, she took a step towards Calypso, her mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. Her mother was in favour of binding the goddess? It seemed so contrary. She stared at the goddess for a long moment. "I don't want to be my mother." She said softly. Her eyes hardened slightly and she pulled herself tall. "I'll do it. I'll speak for you. You deserve to be free." Her voice was strangely passionate.

"And in return?" The goddess replied, a look of self-satisfaction upon her features.

"What do you mean?" Annalise said softly, suddenly caught off-guard.

"You do dis for me, and I owe you. Wha' do you desire most?" Calypso stood regal before her.

"I…" Annalise caught herself. What did she desire most? That privileged life she'd dreamt of? Or freedom, of her own sort rather than her mother's? Or… images pressed themselves upon her heart. Green eyes and a face she could only attempt to dream into existence. A slight pang in her heart at the remembrance of her mother's stories, a man who would die for the woman he loved, even if the love was not returned.

"De man." The voice of the goddess held amusement, very nearly mirth. "Dat's all ye have in your heart?" She stood still and looked Annalise hard in the eyes. Annalise felt her heart pound in her chest. Her voice seemed lost. Was that what she really wanted? The elusive James Norrington she'd dreamt about all her life? She shook her head, no that couldn't be it. But the goddess was staring her in the eyes, nodding. "It be done." She said softly. "But should I be bound, he die once mo'."

Annalise felt herself nod dumbly, in shock or surprise or something undecided. The wind picked up once more and Annalise watched the goddess dissipate into a fine sea mist and melt away on the wind. It was only after she was gone that Annalise swallowed hard, realizing she could have asked for her father's freedom.

* * *

The days passed slowly after they left port. "It be done." Calypso had told her. Did that mean Norrington… James… was suddenly back in existence somewhere? Or that the deal was done? Annalise skulked around the ship, even quieter than usual. She was unsure of whether she should say anything about what had happened to anyone. Perhaps it had all been a dream, after all.

But when the wind filled the sails, Annalise was certain she heard the words echoing in reality, and not just in her mind. In the cries of the gulls she could hear the silken laughter of a capricious goddess. It was a constant reminder that she had half the deal to uphold on her own.

The deal had been so easy to make. She trembled now, contemplating how on earth she could actually accomplish the task before her. To first speak before the Pirate Brethren, then to have them listen, and somehow, somehow to convince them of her… of Calypso's cause. Annalise shrugged her shoulders. First things first, they had to get to Shipwreck Cove for the meeting that her mother had finally announced had been called.

"Anna," a sharp, but still sweet voice spoke from behind her. Annalise turned to face her mother, she was still devastatingly beautiful as she neared fifty. Her hair only hinting at the addition of gray to its golden brown tones. "I want both you and your brother to come with me to the meeting this time. You're old enough to," she paused, choosing her words carefully, "have to put up with the politics, I think is how Jack would put it."

Annalise nodded silently. At least this took care of how she would get the opportunity to address the council. But how was she supposed to hold their attention? How was she supposed to get them to take her seriously? "Will they take me seriously?" She heard her voice ask. She stared up at her mother in slight horror for having said it out loud.

"Well," her mother began, "You aren't all that likely to have to say anything really. But truth to be told, I was only slightly older than you are now when they up and made me Pirate King." She tilted her head to stare out to sea, "Or Jack did ,I guess."

Annalise allowed a slight sigh of relief escape her. Her mother, as always, was most wrapped up in herself. Thank heaven for small miracles, Annalise thought softly as her mother walked over to another portion of the ship, back to shouting orders to her crew.

Annalise gazed out at the horizon. "Looks like a storm is coming." William commented as he passed her, pausing to lean against the railing. Annalise turned to face her brother. His face and arms were darkly tanned from his hours beneath the tropical sun, but he looked happy. He was nearing thirty himself and Annalise couldn't help but wonder why he was still here, alone, on their mother's ship.

"I think it'll slip right past us." Annalise replied with a smile, one she hoped didn't look too knowing. She rather doubted Calypso would allow any storms to interfere with their deal being carried out to completion. Her smile faded slightly. "Are you happy being a pirate?" She whispered softly.

"Still on this, Anna?" William replied with a smile. "Yes, I'm happy being a pirate. It's in our blood."

"Then why aren't I happy being one?" Annalise replied softly, her brown eyes taking on a deeply melancholy look.

"You're like mother." Her brother replied with a laugh, throwing up an arm to ward off Annalise's incoming slap. "Neither of you is ever happy with what you've got. You both have a need to chase after dreams and rainbows." He nodded at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You just don't see it, cause by the time you were old enough to, mother got her ship, her _Freedom_. And that's her dream, you know." He looked at her directly. "One day you're gonna figure out who you really are, and what you really want, and then you'll find your dream." Taking Annalise's shoulders and looking her square in the eyes, he continued, "Then, Anna, then you will be happy."

Anna watched her brother's back as he strode merrily across the deck beyond her. "I hope you're right." She whispered wistfully, her eyes floating up to take in the billowed out sails. "Cause with these winds we'll be at Shipwreck Cove in just a few days."


	4. A Rude Awakening

_**Something Better**_

_Just as promised…_

**Chapter 4: Rude Awakening**

Water. Salt water. In his mouth. The sharp taste of the sea was the first thing to enter his awareness. That and the sudden pressing thought that air was required. James Norrington opened his eyes to a blue world before rapidly pulling himself to the surface and desperately gasping for breath. He felt so strange, sucking air into his hungry lungs, as if he hadn't breathed for years. It was a strange sensation indeed.

Once that need had been taken care of, he began to tread water. He looked around himself with interest. Had the ocean always been so blue? The clouds so white? Had the cry of the gulls always been so strangely loud? The swirl of colour and sound and taste pressed into his consciousness. It all seemed so fresh, so new. As if his eyes and ears and tongue hadn't been used in forever. Which was odd indeed, he found himself thinking, since just yesterday…

Just yesterday he had been Admiral Norrington. He'd been on the _Flying Dutchman_, and Elizabeth! Elizabeth was alive! But she had looked at him with such bitterness, such anger and disgust. He felt his heart constrict painfully at the memory. No matter how he tried, Elizabeth still had such a hold over him. There was another memory though.

"_Come with me."_ She'd said, her eyes luminous in the darkness, _"Come with me, James."_ And he'd kissed her. He'd been so bold. He wasn't sure if he felt like laughing or crying at the memory. Perhaps, oh perhaps, if he'd taken such a liberty back in Port Royale, before any of this had begun, their fates might have been so very different. He looked around himself again, at the empty blue ocean surrounding him. How did he go from a kiss in the night to open ocean?

Memory pushed in at him very suddenly. The fear, the reality of being detected while he'd ensured their escape. Elizabeth, Elizabeth clinging to the rope, calling to him. Shooting the rope down with perfect aim… because, because there had been someone there. A Bootslap, or Bootsnap, or some such thing. One of Davy Jones' creatures at any rate. And then pain.

James gasped. The pain! He could remember that with a brutal sharp quality. Instinctively, he grabbed at his middle. But there was nothing running through him. He looked down, rapidly pulling open the shirt he wore and running his hand down his stomach in shock. There was nothing. No wound, no scar, nothing at all. He blinked suddenly, remembering tentacles before his face and one last thrust of his sword. No, one last thrust?

Last? James Norrington stared around him in sudden fear. "I'm dead." He whispered hoarsely. "I've died."

He didn't feel dead. The sun was beating down on him, and his lips felt slightly cracked. He could smell and taste the sea, and he felt… he felt intensely hungry actually. Everything felt so real, so sharp. It wasn't like anything he'd ever heard of. He couldn't be dead. Not now. But he'd died. He _remembered_ dying. The dark brink of eternity, the bitter taste of his own blood in his mouth. The final thought that he'd finally chosen the right side, the one with Elizabeth on it.

So why was he here now, in warm Caribbean sunlight in the middle of the sea?

"You there!" A gruff voice interrupted his musings. "You need help?"

James spun rapidly, suddenly aware of the small dingy that had been rowing near him. The single occupant was staring at him oddly. "I… yes. Please." James replied. If this was some sort of afterlife, he might as well play along with it. The only other option was that he was somehow alive. It didn't seem such a strange thought really, compared to some things he'd seen on the seas. It was a struggle to get into the small wooden boat. His muscles felt brutally unused, and the cool breeze was chilling him terribly in his soaked clothing.

He looked down at himself. He seemed to be dressed in a loose white shirt and breeches. No signs of any of his ornate Navy finery. No wig upon his head. Well, he thought finally, if this was some sort of chance to start again, he'd gladly take it. At least this time he knew which side he'd be on.

"The strangest thing is," He saviour was saying, "Is you weren't there before. Then suddenlies you're there." James nodded, feeling strangely free and nonchalant. He'd died. There wasn't all that much that bothered him now. "What is your name, by the by?" The sailor asked, keeping up his constant stream of narration. "Mine's Tolly, deckhand on the _Brigand's Might_."

"James." Norrington replied, a strange smile on his lips. The sun was shining heavily upon him, rapidly drying his clothes and warming him up. "Is this all real?" He asked finally, in a conversational tone. "You see, I was certain I had died."

Tolly looked at James with a bewildered look. "You got a touch too much sun there, James?" He asked, a little taken aback. "If ya fell off your ship, sometimes you can pass out, but make it to the shallows anyhow. You thinks you died, but you didn't really?"

James nodded sympathetically. He'd definitely confused and possibly scared his saviour at this point. "That must have been it." He replied cheerfully, taking in the island behind him and the old sailing vessel they were rowing up towards. Perhaps he'd replied a little too cheerfully for a man who had supposedly been lost overboard. Definitely too cheerfully for the James Norrington he knew himself to be.

Though if he was dead, did he still know himself? Did one change after death? Or maybe he really was alive. That would certainly be interesting. And curious. What exactly made him worthy of a second chance? He began to hum softly, a military ditty he'd learned back when he'd first joined up.

"Aye. I doubt you wanna be humming that." Tolly said, looking suspiciously at James now. "Ya ain't a military man, are ya?"

"Oh no." Replied James, his smile broadening. "Not at all."

* * *

Once in dry clothes, on board a true ship, James felt himself returning to his senses. It felt so strange, so utterly free, as if he could really start everything again. It was probably unlikely. After all, he'd been an Admiral when… well when he'd died. Rather unlikely that he could just leave that all behind. But for now he could pretend. At this point it seemed everyone on the _Brigand's Might_ believed him to be rather simple, especially when he'd burst into laughter upon stepping onboard and finding himself in the middle of a pirate crew. "Excellent!" He'd cried. "Simply fitting!"

The crew seemed to be avoiding him for the most part, with only Tolly bothering to tell him when the meals were. So he wandered around the ship, gnawing on a dry chunk of something vaguely bread-like, enjoying the sensation of living. He was quite firmly convinced that he was in fact alive. The how and why of it he didn't know, but for the moment he was simply grateful for it.

"So I says," he overheard a crew member saying, "this be the year…" James froze.

"What… year did you say it was?" He asked, approaching the crew members unsteadily. He stared at them silently as they replied. "You're serious?" He laughed. "The world hates me." He said chuckling, strolling down the deck. "Really hates me."

* * *

"Thirty years." James murmured to the evening sky. The ship was headed for Tortuga, and the crew seemed more than eager to be rid of him. "Nearly thirty years." He said again, his eyes straying out over the sea. "If it's real at all." He finished, lifting a bottle of rum to his lips. He paused, pulling the bottle away from his lips and holding it upside down. He nodded slowly. "It must be real, the rum is gone."

He stumbled to a crate and sat down slowly, letting his hands massage the bridge of his nose. It was entirely unbelievable really. Dead one moment, alive the next, only thirty years having passed in between. He laughed again, his sanity was certainly being tested by this. He ran his hand across his chin, thick stubble already appearing. He looked out across the horizon once more. On the up side, he supposed, the Navy would have forgotten about him long ago. Which meant he was free to live his life as he would.

Except that Elizabeth was really the beginning and ending of that wasn't she? And where would she be now? Nearly fifty. He shook his head. So much for being older than she was. She probably ended up with that Will Turner. He found himself imagining a cozy cottage with children running around in a yard, Elizabeth and Will a happy couple with a happy life. He laughed bitterly. But then again, any kids they'd had would be grown up by now. Nearly as old as he was, in all likelihood.

So it really would be a clean start, he mused. Everything fresh. Thirty-two and nothing to show for it at all. Nothing. Just a name that had once belonged to one of the Navy's youngest-ever commodores. His hoarse, bitter laughter rang out across the ship in the darkness. With the amount of time that had passed, he could have been named after himself. He frowned, did that make sense? Maybe it was the rum talking at this point anyway.

James took one long look at the empty bottle that now sat on the deck beside his foot. With one smooth action, he scooped up the bottle and threw it over the ship's railing, as far into the inky night as he could. That was what he thought of rum.

A little voice at the back of his head disagreed, murmuring that in just a few days he'd be back in Tortuga. And he knew what lay there. More rum. Among other sins he'd rather wish he could wash away. He sighed, living seemed such a weighty task. Staring out into the night, James found himself wondering what it was he wanted. In that other life it had been ambition, and Elizabeth. What was there now? There had to be something more meaningful than rum.

He had to have been brought back for some purpose, hadn't he? Maybe?

_Expect a more in-character James once he gets over the shock... :P_


	5. To get a bit of your attention

_**Something Better**_

_I just want to say that I'm so pleased with the way everyone seems to love this story! Thank you so much for your reviews, and adding my story to alerts and such. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. _

_I promise you won't be disappointed…_

**Chapter 5: To get a bit of your attention…**

Annalise stood behind her mother, watching the various pirate lords enter the room. Some of the faces had changed over the years, she knew from her mother's stories. Though Mistress Ching still shuffled to her seat with the aid of several of her crew members. Annalise looked at the faces around the table, from Mistress Ching's heavily lined face to the familiar bearded face of Captain Barbossa, to the walking disaster she considered her "Uncle" Jack to be. She took a deep breathe, contemplating facing the table of pirate lords as her mother announced the opening of the meeting.

Her mother began to state all the reasons for binding Calypso once more to human form, listing the worsened hurricanes, and the increasingly unpredictable nature of the seas. Annalise shook her head, wasn't it the unpredictability that made the sea so lovely? Her mother paused for an instant, only to be cut off by rowdy cheers from most of the table. Annalise stared at the crowd, visibly shaken. All of them, were for it? Frantically, her eyes leapt to Captain Barbossa, who had a frown across his face. He was getting to old to make a fuss, but from the set of his features, he was deadset against the plan.

With a nervous swallow, Annalise let her eyes jump back to Jack Sparrow. He lounged carelessly against a wall on her mother's opposite side, making faces at the crowd of pirate lords. Suddenly noticing Annalise's eyes on him, he looked directly at her and drew a hand slowly across his throat, gesturing towards the pirate lords. "They're crazier than your Uncle Captain Jack if they think ol' Tia's gonna let herself be bound down again." He declared grandly. "If I know her, she's got a plan. And I know her… or knew her. Once. Long ago."

Annalise nodded sympathetically at Jack. "She's got me." She said softly, a hopeless look in her eyes.

At her words Jack widened his eyes and straightened up. "Annie-belle, what…"

Annalise cut her uncle off by striding in front of her mother. "Shut up!" She cried, her voice surprising even her by cutting through the noise. Everyone in the room stared at her in surprise. She shifted uncomfortably, all eyes on her. She swallowed the dry lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. "I… well… Calypso wants me to speak for her."

The room was dead silent, all eyes staring at her with expressions of shock and surprise. "To you." Annalise added. "She wants me to speak to you, on her behalf." The room remained deathly still. "She doesn't want to be bound?" Annalise said weakly.

With that the room erupted into chaos. "If Calypso wanted to be heard, why wouldn't she appear herself?" A voice shouted over the ruckus, followed by dozens of other questions.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her mother hissed in her ear, spinning Annalise around by the shoulders to face her. "Didn't you think Calypso appearing warranted telling your captain?"

Annalise stared at her mother. "No." She said finally. "And not my mother either." She stood tall and stuck out her chin. "Calypso appeared to me. We have a deal, and that's that. So here I am, representing her."

"You don't know what you're dealing with, Anna." Her mother said darkly. "And you can't expect this council to take you seriously either."

Annalise looked up at her mother with fire flashing in her brown eyes. "Why shouldn't they?" She challenged. "They took you seriously."

Beside them, her brother cleared his throat. "Mother, Anna, don't you think it's probably imperative that you get this meeting back under control?" Jack stood behind her brother nodding frantically as he held off several swords at once with his own. The look of wide-eyed alarm in his expression was enough to cause her mother to snap.

"Would you all just sit down!" She shouted. In an instant, everyone who'd be standing was sitting. The pair of pirates who'd been dueling on the table now sat cross-legged, and very still, on top of it.

"If what she says is true," A calm voice stated softly, "Calypso knows what we plan. She would not appear to us, because it would give us the opportunity to bind her." Everyone in the room stared at Mistress Ching as she blinked owlishly. She turned to face Annalise. "Please Anna, continue." She said with a nod.

Annalise stepped forward once more. "Thank you," she said softly. "Calypso sent me because she doesn't want to be bound, and…"

"Which seems fair to I." Captain Barbossa interjected. "Leave it be, says I."

A younger pirate lord slammed his fist down onto the table. "I lost a ship in the last hurricane! Calypso is to blame!"

"You're certain it wasn't just your crew lacking in skill?" An acidic voice cut across the table. Once again the room erupted into chaos.

Annalise sighed heavily, shaking her head. "This is pointless." She said to no one in particular, taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention to her to exit the room. She dragged her feet back to the _Freedom_, to her mother's ship, and sat on deck again. She stared miserably at the darkening sky above her. "What if I can't do this?" She mouthed softly to the sky above her.

After a long hour, the sound of her mother and her brother arguing washed over her as they approached the ship. "I don't understand why she didn't tell me!" Her mother's frustrated voice cut her to the bone, and she squirmed further into the shadows.

"Maybe 'cause you aren't always the most approachable person in the world." Her brother's calm voice replied.

"I'm plenty approachable!" Her mother cried in response.

"No, mother. No, you aren't. Most of the time you're Captain Turner, one of the most fierce and respected pirates on the sea. The Pirate King. How exactly is Anna supposed to talk to you?" She heard her brother's voice rising. "Mother, Anna doesn't even _want_ to be a pirate. She never has. You just ignore it. You're always wrapped up in your own concerns."

"Oh William." Annalise breathed softly, shaking her head. "You didn't want to say that." She knew. She'd said the same things to their mother before. The result was always the same. She would stare at you with her dark eyes, and her facial features would soften slightly, and her lower lip would sag. No tears would fall, but her voice would take on a shaky tone. And then there was the "speech". The hour long lecture on how hard she worked to give her children a life of freedom, a life not limited by proper protocols and such. How she worked so hard to teach them right, and protect them in the dangerous world of pirates. How difficult it was to both captain a ship and be a mother, especially when your husband couldn't be there. Wasn't it difficult enough for her?

Annalise sighed softly into the night, listening to her mother's passionate rant from afar. Was some degree of decorum, some crumb of restraint so much to ask for? She raised her eyes to the sky, tuning out her mother's voice and choosing to drink in the stars instead. Somewhere, somewhere there had to be something better than this. There had to be.

But before she could find that, she had to keep her end of the deal didn't she? Otherwise the sea would be tamed. _And you'll never meet James._ A small voice in the back of her head added. She ground her teeth slightly, the goal wasn't about him. She wouldn't let it just be about a man. Especially not one she'd never met. _But you might soon._ The annoying little voice interrupted.

Annalise didn't try to control the smile that spread across her lips. There was really no point. Though, she wondered, what if he wasn't at all like what she'd dreamt up? What if he was completely different from her mother's stories? What if… what if he was like in the stories? She bit her lip gently, she shouldn't be thinking about these things when she needed to focus on how to simply get the attention of the Pirate Brethren for more than a few seconds. She closed her eyes, but wasn't it just so much nicer to imagine a man with green eyes taking her hand?

"Hoist the sails." She heard her mother order. She popped her head up from where she sat.

"We're going somewhere?" She called across the deck to her mother, who now stood facing the wind.

"The pirate lords voted to take a week to consider the options and the possible repercussions. We're meeting back here then." She turned around and raised her eyes at her still half-hidden daughter. "I don't think we'll be needing you at that meeting." She said firmly.

"Mother." She heard herself say. "It's not that easy." She got to her feet and walked over to where her mother stood.

"Then tell me." Her mother said firmly. "I can't help you if I don't understand what's going on."

Annalise bit her tongue to keep herself from spitting out that her mother could never understand her. "If I don't do this, if I don't… represent Calypso," she said carefully, "If she… if you bind her again, someone will die."

"Who will die?" Her mother asked, crossing her arms.

"I… I don't know exactly." Annalise heard herself stutter, suddenly extremely self-conscious about the deal she'd made. "But someone will. She said so."

"You don't know?" Her mother replied, artfully raising an eyebrow. "Or you won't tell me?" Annalise shifted her feet slightly, refusing to drop her gaze. She didn't reply. "I see." Her mother said quietly. "I hope you intend to talk to me before this week is over." She stalked away, leaving her daughter standing alone by the front of the ship.

"Mother," she heard the words whisper their way out of her mouth. "When did you become so hard?" She turned quietly to watch her mother continue along the ship, barking commands that didn't particularly have to be uttered. For the first time in her life, Annalise realized that her mother was hurting inside. Not the showy hurt she put on when giving her "speech", but something deeper and sharper. She was just so hard on the surface, so strong and beautiful, that no one ever saw it.

She thought back to the first and only time she had met her father. The instant her mother had caught sight of him, the coldness in her features, the harshness in her voice had drained away. Annalise stood on the deck, her face once again turned to the stars above. Looking back, that had been the only time she'd ever seen her mother truly happy. Annalise felt a sudden thought run painfully through her, was love really terrible?


	6. Choices

_**Something Better**_

_Meanwhile, in Tortuga…_

**Chapter 6: Choices**

It was nightfall when they made port in Tortuga. James stepped lightly off the gangplank onto the dock, his eyes taking in his surroundings with a sense of familiarity. Tortuga was the same hellhole it had been the last time he'd been there. The sound of drunken laughter mixed with the clash of swords and the exploding of gun powder. James frowned slightly. The strange sense of lightness was fading, leaving the heavier sentiments that came more readily to him.

So it was with sad eyes that he strode up the dock and into town, memories he'd rather have forgotten sifting their way back through his mind. He was entirely determined to avoid rum, a decision made easier by the fact that his pockets were entirely empty. He strolled like a ghost through the riotous streets, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

It was entirely by accident that a bottle of rum worked its way into his hands. It hadn't been his intention at all, but while walking through the streets, a wide-eyed man had seemed to have been offered something even better than rum. Without looking, he'd thrust the unopened bottle of rum backwards, directly into James, before rushing after a brunette with generous curves and a low-cut neckline.

In his defense, James thought to himself, he had fought a half-hearted battle against opening the bottle. Though perhaps it didn't count so much if he lost said battle. He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a generous gulp. It burned on his tongue and against the back of his throat: the promise of forgetting for an evening at least the series of disastrous events that seemed to form his life. The chance to forget that he'd been dead for very nearly thirty years. James paused in taking the next sip, the ghost of reason flitting through his eyes.

With a sigh, James slipped the cork back into the bottle. With a certain determination to his features, he passed the bottle off to a drunken pirate stumbling past him. Last time he had been in Tortuga he'd wallowed in self-pity and blind anger. Last time he'd been bitter and frustrated, tempted to end his life right then and there whenever he wasn't drunk. This time was rather different.

Assuming he'd been brought back for some purpose anyway.

The trouble, thought James to himself, was that with no directions a man was forced to determine what that purpose was. Try as he might, he was coming up blank. He'd died saving Elizabeth. What greater sacrifice could be made? What more could be expected from him? What hadn't he accomplished before his death?

_I was never loved._ The thought sprang unbidden to his mind, causing his teeth to grind slightly. It was foolishness indeed to dwell on such petty things. He'd been forgiven; couldn't he leave it at that? A small voice in the back of his head mourned the loss of the rum, as dealing with his thoughts had always tended to leave him depressed.

He shook his head, resolutely walking into a tavern nearby. His eyes quickly scanned the crowded room, searching intently for the only option he could think of realistically taking. Walking up to the rickety wooden table, he sized up the first mate, who appeared to be utterly bored by the complete lack of interest in joining the crew those filling the tavern seemed to express. With a heavy sigh, the man reached for the mug of ale by his side.

James stepped up to the table, his shadow falling over the scruffy man who sat behind it. "What's your story?" The man said gruffy, without looking up at him.

The corner of James' lips curved slightly upwards, and the insane desire to burst into laughter crept back into his head. Wasn't this scene almost painfully familiar? "You wouldn't believe it mate." He replied finally, his green eyes filling with mirth as the first mate looked up at him.

The man gave him a dull look. "Do you care where you go?"

James stared into the man's disinterested face. It was grimy, and the man was lacking at least a few teeth. A thoughtful pause installed itself in the intervening moments. "No." James replied, suddenly aware of his own appearance. His hair hung tangled and loose, nearly reaching his shoulders, and his face was scruffy with several day's worth of facial hair.

"Then welcome to the crew." The man announced sullenly, waving James away. And so James joined the crew of the _Eel's Rage_. Before boarding the ship, James found himself staring at the ship's name. He shook his head, strolling up the gangplank onto the deck. With a name like that, no wonder they weren't choosy about the crew.

With no questions asked, James found himself scrubbing the decks of the ship. Which left his mind rather unoccupied. Inevitably, he found himself drifting back to the judging of his life. Perhaps he was being too critical of himself, but he found that there were few things he was actually proud of. And remarkably few things that he actually liked about himself.

Which all begged the question of what he intended to do with this second chance he'd been given. Sweeping Elizabeth off her feet seemed to be rather out of the question. Returning to the Navy seemed merely undesirable. Which left… what? Being a pirate?

James raised an arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He needed someone to explain to him what had happened in the years he'd been dead. Someone who could also preferably explain why exactly he was no longer dead. People didn't just pop back into existence, at least as far as he knew they didn't. On the other hand, he'd fought skeletons and rotting corpses, and been Admiral on board a ship with men who were more sea creature than man. Perhaps his situation wasn't as strange as it seemed after all.

"You there!" The captain's voice cut across the deck.

James raised his head, "Yes sir?" It felt odd to address a pirate as sir.

"Can you chart a course?"

James felt like laughing again. The thought of an admiral unable to chart a course was simply too much. Instead he kept his face a perfect mask of seriousness, a skill he'd mastered long ago as a youth in the Navy. "Yes." He replied, his eyes dark in the bright sun. "Where are we headed?"

"The waters around Shipwreck Cove." The captain replied, "The Pirate Lords are wandering through them, and I've heard that at least some profit can be made off of them."

James felt his eyes widen at these words. Shipwreck Cove and Pirate Lords, fragments of thoughts and overheard commands ran through his mind, memories only half-remembered, because he'd felt only half-alive at the time. As he stood to follow the captain, he realized suddenly that this could be the key to understanding everything. And perhaps… perhaps to see Elizabeth. Even if she was old. If only for curiosity's sake.

* * *

The captain stood near the bow of the ship, his spyglass focused on a ship floating in the distance. "So which is she?" The first mate asked eagerly.

"Not one we want." The captain replied solidly. "It's the _Freedom._ I ain't messing with the Pirate King."

"Pirate King?" James heard himself say.

"Aye, the Pirate King." The first mate replied. He looked askance at James, "You haven't heard of 'er?" Silently, James shook his head, suddenly intrigued. The first mate stared at him for a long moment. "The terrible Captain Turner?"

"Turner?" James asked softly. It could be Will Turner, though he had somehow expected better of the man. Will had seemed honourable somehow, despite all his dealings with pirates...

"Aye, Elizabeth Turner, king of the pirates. They say she's as fierce as she is fair." The first mate continued, interrupting James' train of thought.

"Elizabeth!" James heard himself cry. Elizabeth Turner, so she had married Will after all. But what was Elizabeth doing as a pirate? A king of pirates? "I need to get to that ship." He heard himself say firmly. His voice cut the air around him. He paused, suddenly hesitant, realizing his voice had lost the hint of hilarity it'd held since he'd woken up floating in the ocean. He sounded like himself again, like a man who commanded others, rather than a lowly deckhand.

Every person within hearing distance had their eyes leveled on him. "Now what be you wanting with the Pirate King?" The captain asked him suspiciously, his voice low and holding the promise of threat. James suddenly felt terribly exposed. He had no sword, no pistol, no weaponry at all actually.

He swallowed hard, standing his ground. "I know Elizabeth." He said softly.

* * *

In retrospect, that probably hadn't been the greatest thing to say. James sputtered, salt water once again filling his mouth, kicking away from the _Eel's Rage_ and towards the distant ship that he could only hope would hold some answers.

James could only be thankful that the ship wasn't moving, apparently having weighed anchor in this remote location. As he swam up behind the ship, he heard a harsh voice calling orders. "Hoist the main sail," the vaguely familiar female voice cried. "Tie those lines! I want to be out of sight of land by nightfall!"

James wondered softly whether the voice belonged to Elizabeth. It seemed rather likely, her being captain. He splashed up to the back of the ship, grabbing hold of dangling ropes and heaving himself out of the growing waves. He struggled up the side of the ship, pulling himself over the railing and onto the deck with a wet smack. He was exhausted.

He raised his head and found himself staring straight into the brown eyes of a young woman that could only be Elizabeth. "Elizabeth?" He breathed. But no, she couldn't be her. Elizabeth would be old by now. And the eyes were wrong, wider and darker than Elizabeth's. The longer he stared at the woman, the more certain he became of the differences between the two.

The young woman shook her head in surprise. "I'm Annalise." She whispered. "Annalise Turner." She paused, staring back at him. "Elizabeth is my mother."

"What is going on here?" The harsh voice from earlier demanded, approaching rapidly. The sound of a sword being drawn echoed in James' ears, but his eyes seemed to loathe the idea of leaving the young woman called Annalise Turner. The last name rang in his ears, her dark eyes now familiar as being those of her father's. He pulled his gaze away and faced the owner of the sword that was now directed at his throat.

"Elizabeth." He whispered hoarsely. She had aged, but she was still beautiful. Her hair held strands of grey, and fine lines were etched around her still bright eyes.

The sword fell to the deck with a clang. "James!" Elizabeth cried in shock, her eyes wide with the horror of having held a sword to his throat.


	7. An Awkward Moment

_**Something Better**_

_The sword fell to the deck with a clang. "James!" Elizabeth cried in shock, her eyes wide with the horror of having held a sword to his throat._

**Chapter 7: An Awkward Moment**

Annalise stared as her mother's sword clattered to the deck. Her mother's voice sounded bereft of its usual harshness, stripped down to a girl-like cry that made Annalise's eyes widen.

"James?" Annalise murmured softly, her eyes trailing over the man. But she already knew, didn't she? She'd known it the instant the man's sea green eyes had met her's and he whispered her mother's name. "James Norrington?" She said louder, wonderingly. He wasn't really what she had expected at all. He was sopping wet, his dark hair hanging limply before his face and the beginnings of a scruffy beard present. He looked… well, he looked like a pirate.

At the sound of his name, his marvelously green eyes had redirected their gaze back to her. "You know my name?" He'd said, so seriously and with such confusion that Annalise nearly laughed. As it was a smile creeped onto her face, perhaps he was the man her mother had spoken of.

"Of course." She replied softly, "Mother told me all about you." The confusion seemed to increase in the man's eyes. He turned to look at her mother once again. She seemed to be gathering her wits back about her, but there was something in her mother's eyes that startled Annalise. A strange mix of relief, delight, and pain was evident there, free for all the world to see. Annalise bit her lip suddenly; her mother's guard was down. The walls she built around herself to keep herself strong had cracked. If Norrington died again… Annalise swallowed hard, now there was yet another reason she had to keep Calypso from being bound.

"William," She heard her mother say softly, "Take James below. Find him some dry clothing. I'll see him in the captain's quarters when he's ready." She stepped backwards, retreating from James' surprised expression into the safety of her ship. Annalise stared after her mother. She'd never seen her quite so flustered before.

"So, James Norrington?" She heard her brother say. "Nice to meet my namesake."

"Wouldn't William be after your father?" Norrington's voice replied with an amused tone.

"William James Turner." Her brother replied back. "And you've met Anna." Annalise turned suddenly to take in the sight of James Norrington now standing beside her brother, who gestured carelessly at her. A smirk appeared on his face, "You'll have to forgive Anna, she's had the biggest crush on you ever since mother first made the mistake of telling her your story." William shook his head dramatically, "Since then your's is the only one she's ever wanted to hear."

Annalise felt her mouth drop open. "William!" She sputtered pointlessly, as her brother had begun to drag Norrington away before the shocked man could respond. Her temper flared. How dare her brother say such things! She trembled in anger and frustration, stepping over to the ship's railing with short, clipped steps. She looked out at the horizon. The sun was low in the sky, filling the sails with a fragile golden light. She took a deep breath, quieting the thousands of thoughts that meandered through her mind. But one disappointed murmuring seemed to stick like a thorn. _He looked like a pirate._

"Well, isn't that interesting." Annalise heard her brother say, strolling up to her side.

"Isn't what interesting?" She inquired lightly.

"Well, first you announce to the Pirate Brethren that you've agreed to represent Calypso, then you tell mother that if you don't succeed someone you won't reveal will die. Then, out of the blue, the man you've worshipped since you were five appears suddenly on our ship after nearly twenty-eight years of being dead." Her brother's voice held a cold edge to it.

"It is interesting, isn't it?" She heard herself reply flatly, refusing to met her brother's eyes.

Her brother gave a frustrated sigh. "What did Calypso offer you in return for representing her?"

Annalise turned to face William, a sad look in her eyes. "Anything." She whispered wistfully.

"And you chose Norrington, didn't you?" Her brother spat back. He ran a hand through his short hair agitatedly. "You could have freed father!"

"You think I don't know that?" Annalise cried suddenly, anger flashing in her eyes. "I never told her what I wanted in return, William!" She stared at her brother, desperate for his understanding. "She just stared at me for a long moment, and I don't know, looked into my heart or something. And suddenly she up and decides what I want."

Her dark eyes looked up at her brother pleadingly, begging for his understanding. "And," He began slowly, "You'd just been daydreaming, hadn't you?" Annalise nodded slowly, the fire in her eyes quieting, filled with a heavy sorrow instead.

Her brother exhaled slowly, leaning on the railing beside her and letting his eyes trail out to the horizon. "You know if he dies, mother will be crushed?"

"I know." Annalise whispered in reply. "I want to be able to fix all this." She looked at her brother who met her eyes.

He smiled weakly, lifting a hand to muss her hair the way he had when she was just a child. "You know I'm here for you, Anna." He said softly, pulling her into a hug. "You don't have to do this all alone."

Annalise nodded gently as he brother left her side, returning back below deck to escort Norrington to her mother's quarters. She turned back towards the setting sun, letting its vivid dying rays splash over her features. She closed her eyes, letting the sea breeze work its way through her tangled hair.

The sound of a man clearing his throat behind her nearly made her jump. She spun around to face… the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life. Clean shaven, with his dark hair brushed back and held in place with a ribbon, James Norrington's features took on a dignity she hadn't observed when he'd first splashed onto the deck before her. She felt her breathe catch slightly in her throat, as his sea-green eyes looked at her calmly. "I was hoping you could direct me to the Captain's Quarters, Miss Turner." He said softly.

Annalise nodded dumbly. Never in her life had she ever been addressed as Miss Turner. Suddenly, all her dreams and private fairy tales flooded back over her. Mentally, she pushed them away, the real James Norrington was better than she'd dreamt. After a long moment, she realized how silly she must look, staring at him silently. "It's this way." She blurted out suddenly. "Here, I'll take you there." She winced at herself as she stepped in front of him to lead.

A heavy silence sat awkwardly between the two as they walked along the deck. "So," Annalise began uncomfortably, "How long have you been alive? Again?" She felt like hitting her head against the railing of the ship. What had possessed her to ask that?

"I believe it's been seven days." He replied, his rich voice carrying undertones of amusement.

"That's exciting." The day after I made the deal with Calypso then, she thought to herself hazily. It seemed as if so much longer than a week had passed since then. "I mean," she stumbled over her words, "It must have been strange to be alive again."

"You've no idea." Norrington replied, his tone unreadable this time.

Annalise felt vaguely uncomfortable. What if he hadn't wanted to come back to life? What right had she had to have him summoned back to the world of the living? "Do you… that is, are you alright with being alive again?" She heard herself ask softly. She found herself at the door to her mother's quarters, and turned to pull them open for Norrington. She found herself face-to-face with his handsome visage.

He looked thoughtful. "It feels strange," He said finally, as if admitting some deep, dark emotion, "To have somehow lost nearly thirty years worth of time." He met her dark eyes. "Though," he continued, "I cannot say I'm not entirely pleased with having been given a second chance."

A long pause hung between the pair. "Thank you, Miss Turner." He said suddenly, straightening his shoulders and pulling open the door to the captain's quarters, "I rather doubt I could have located these rooms by myself."

Annalise stood still as the door closed and a chill breeze blew against her face. Had he meant that sarcastically, or seriously?

* * *

Sleep refused to come that night to Annalise. Exhaustedly, she wandered up onto the deck. She stared out at the stars reflecting off the sea's surface. She walked up the railing and leaned against it tiredly. Even as the stakes climbed, the task she'd set upon herself seemed to grow more impossible. "Calypso," She heard herself murmur, "I don't know that I can do this."

"Wha' ya be talkin' 'bout?" The voice of the goddess twisted through the air. Annalise turned around in surprise, to find herself face-to-face with the goddess. She wore an amused expression upon her features. "You bought y'urself time, girl." Her accent lent her words a strange heaviness. "T'ings will come to ye." She winked wickedly. "De man did."

"But they won't listen to me." Annalise said miserably. "And mother won't even agree with me!"

"Giv' et time." Calyso replied lightly.

"Time?"Annalise cried, forgetting to be quiet. "How much time do you think you have? The Brethren are meeting again in four days to decide. Four days!" She stared at the goddess in disbelief. "You need to offer them some sort of deal. Otherwise they'll never come around!"

Calypso looked at Annalise for a long moment. "Ya father." She nodded slowly to herself. "Ya father can go free." Her dark eyes narrowed as they met Annalise's own. "Dat's it." With that she strolled into the shadows of the ship until the darkness of her form melted into the darkness of the night.

Annalise nodded rapidly, her disbelief heightened. Her father could be free of the _Flying Dutchman_, what more could she ask for really? Better yet, with that offer on the table, her mother would _have_ to change her mind. A smile worked its way onto her features, as she remained blissfully unaware of the clouds rapidly blacking out the stars.

Annalise suddenly grabbed the rail, the wind was picking up rapidly, more rapidly than she'd ever known it to. The smile left her lips as insecurity blossomed in her stomach. The roar and slosh of water made her turn around, only in time for a huge dark wave to rise up in her face, lifting her off the deck and pulling her into the suddenly rough waters below. A muffled scream escaped her lips as her world dissolved into dark water and a frenzy of bubbles.


	8. A Different Sort Of Cage

_**Something Better**_

**Chapter 8: A Different Sort of Cage**

James wandered the deck of the _Freedom_ long after the crew had retired for the night. Only a few watchmen remained on the deck, playing a game of cards. He turned down their hesitant offer to join them in a game; his mind was far too troubled to focus on such things. Elizabeth had been vague in answering his questions. Though to be fair, he'd been vague with his answers too.

From what he could gather, Elizabeth had been made the Pirate King during or just before a battle against the East India Trading Company, one which somehow the pirates had miraculously won. At some point dear Will Turner had been cursed, hence why he wasn't present on the ship now, and, as Elizabeth was quick to rant on about, their daughter had somehow made a deal with a sea goddess. James shook his head, all in all it seemed that things were about the same as they always were whenever Elizabeth was involved.

He moved to the side of the ship, staring out into the starry night. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he considered his current situation. There was still no obvious direction for him to turn to. Elizabeth had been aloof during their meeting, more concerned with how James had found himself back among the living than in helping him orient himself. But then again, he thought with a half-hearted smile, when hadn't it always been about her?

"Time?" He heard a female voice cry from the back of the ship. "How much time do you think you have?" Curiousity got the better of James, and he crept silently towards the direction of the voice. "The Brethren are meeting again in four days to decide. Four days!" James stared at the strange vision before him. Elizabeth's daughter, Annalise, appeared to be arguing with a dark shadow.

"You need to offer them some sort of deal." He heard her voice take on an imploring tone. "Otherwise they'll never come around." James nodded slowly, putting the pieces together.

"Ya father." He heard a strangely-accented voice reply from the shadow. "Ya father can go free." James found his breathe catching in his throat. Then this goddess was the same who held Will Turner under that unexplained curse. Observing the smile that widened across the young woman's features, he wondered if Elizabeth would be objecting so strongly to the whole situation if she knew that her daughter was only attempting to bring her father back.

A sudden chill ran through James. He looked up at the sky and observed the dark clouds rolling heavily across the heavens. The wind picked up suddenly, whipping around the ship and keening through the heavy sails. His eyes wandered about the ship rapidly, he'd never seen such weather pile on so fast… His eyes flew back towards Elizabeth's daughter just in time to see a large wave sweeping towards her. Her strangled cry reached his ears and sent him springing into action.

"Woman overboard!" He cried in the direction of the watchmen. He ran over to the railing Annalise had been swept over. He could just make out her form in the dangerous waves below. He yelled again, and the watchmen slowly, painfully slowly, walked towards him. He turned his gaze back to the woman who appeared now to be sinking deeper. He stared back at the crewmen. "Miss Turner's fallen overboard." He cried urgently.

"Miss Turner?" A crewman said, obviously confused. A long second passed before another crewman contributed, "You mean Anna?"

"Yes, I mean Anna." James replied, horrified by the lack of action. His gaze darted down to the turbulent water below. "God help me." He muttered, swiftly climbing up the railing and leaping into the roaring waters below.

Finding Annalise turned out to be easier than he'd feared it would be. He brought her to the surface quickly, relieved to watch her breathing normally. He looked up towards the ship, only to widen his eyes as a massive wave crashed down upon them both. It was everything he could do just to hold on to the young woman in his arms.

* * *

Exhaustion was making him light-headed, he thought as he trudged through the shallow blue waters of the Caribbean Sea, just a few meters from a white sand beach. The young Miss Turner hung limply in his arms as he carried her through the gentle surf. She was breathing shallowly, but at least she was breathing. The second his boots hit the sand he felt himself falling to his knees. He tried to place the young woman as gently down upon the sand as possible, but found his arms giving out at the last second, unceremoniously tumbling the young woman into the sand.

He let himself hit the sand, rolling slowly onto his back. He could only say he was thankful that Elizabeth's daughter dressed in breeches instead of heavy skirts. The sun beat heavily down upon him and he wished for nothing more than a few minutes sleep. A sudden movement by his side nearly made him groan in frustration, as any hope of sleep was likely lost now.

He opened his eyes slowly, propping himself up on an arm and staring at the young woman. She was sitting up now, her eyes holding massive amounts of confusion, and then horror as she seemed to recollect the wave knocking her overboard. He stared at her with mild amusement as she started to get up. "Are we necessarily in any rush to go anywhere?" He asked lazily, loathe to move now that he was finally still.

The young woman turned her head in his direction in surprise. A heavy silence sat between them on the beach. "You… you saved me?" The young woman asked in astonished tones.

James stared at her for a long moment, suddenly confused. "Isn't that what I should have done, Miss Turner?"

The young woman sat there blinking in the bright sunlight, surprise on her features. "You have to forgive me," she paused, "Mr. Norrington. I was raised by pirates." The hint of a smile worked its way across her lips and James felt himself smiling in return. When had he last been addressed as Mr. Norrington?

"So pirates won't attempt to rescue their captain's daughter?" He continued, already sure of the answer.

"Not when they don't know how to swim." She replied, her smile widening.

James shook his head. "For the life of me, I've never understand why so many of them don't at least attempt to learn." A stiff silence fell back between the two, neither quite knowing how to continue.

"We should probably move into the shade." The young woman said hesitantly. "And find some water."

James felt himself nodding, even thought the mere thought of movement seemed dreadful indeed. Regretfully he pulled himself up. "Shall we, Miss Turner?" He said casually, offering his arm as if accompanying her on a stroll through a garden rather than a search for water on a deserted island.

She giggled softly, delicately placing her hand on his arm, a smirk upon her lips. "You really are a gentleman, aren't you Mr. Norrington?" She said lightly, bringing a smile to his lips.

"I like to think I am, Miss Turner." He replied equally lightly. The pair strolled along the beach, soaking wet and exhausted in silence.

"You know you don't have to call me Miss Turner." The young woman said suddenly. "It really is just Annalise." She paused for a moment, looking up at him with soft brown eyes. "And everyone really just calls me Anna."

"You don't like it though." He said suddenly. "You correct everyone but your brother and Elizabeth when they say it." The young woman blushed and James suddenly wondered if it had been far to forward of him to admit to having observed this.

"That's true." She said softly. "Anna sounds like a pirate. Annalise at least has some dignity to it." James stared down at the young woman, who seemed intently focused on the sand just before her feet.

"You don't like being a pirate?" He heard himself ask, surprise evident in his voice.

"Not particularily." The young woman replied, her eyes still downcast. "I know mother describes it as freedom," she continued, "But personally I can't help but see it as just a different sort of cage."

James glanced sideways as the young woman. How could someone so like their mother be so different as well? The young woman continued trudging along. "Well then," He heard himself begin, "If I'm to call you Annalise, I insist you call me James." Which brought those brown eyes back up to meet his gaze.

"Alright, James." She said with a soft smile. He attempted to ignore the way his stomach seemed to flip, hearing his name roll off her tongue. Her voice was softer than her mother's had ever been, her gaze less accusing, more dreamy than her mother's. He nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. It wouldn't be fair that Elizabeth's daughter should captivate him the same way Elizabeth once had, would it?

"So," James began, hoping desperately to change the subject and so the train of thought he seemed to be falling into. "How is your father?"

"I wouldn't know." The young woman said bitterly. "I've only met him once."

James stopped walking. "What?" He said suddenly, staring at the young woman in shock.

"Mother didn't tell you then?" The girl murmured, a bemused expression on her face. "That figures." She shook her head.

"Elizabeth did mention a curse of some sort…" He began softly, trailing off as Annalise's expression grew more and more amused.

"My father is the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_." She replied, a hint of laughter in her incredulous voice.

James just stared at her in silence.


	9. The Past That Haunts

_**Something Better**_

"_My father is the captain of the Flying Dutchman." _

**Chapter 9: The Past That Haunts**

Annalise smiled weakly at James, who seemed to be frozen by disbelief, staring not quite at her, but rather through her. She sighed softly, "C'mon, once we find a stream I'll tell you everything I know." She paused, "Which should be everything seeing as how these were my bedtime stories." She turned her head to make sure James was following her. She couldn't help but feel bad for him, and at least slightly guilty.

They walked in silence for longer than Annalise would have liked. James no longer held her arm, and she rather wished he were. She stole a glance over to him. It wasn't actually for the sake of his touch either; the man swayed dangerously, looking as if he may pass out from exhaustion at any moment. She pushed away the grim thought that the last thing she needed would be to have to drag an unconscious man across this beach.

She breathed a sigh of relief when a small stream came into view, winding its way out of the jungle and down the beach. "There's one right here!" She said eagerly, turning to James smiling. She felt her smile fade as James merely glanced up at her in mock-appreciation. She sighed, taking a few steps into the jungle in order to avoid the burning sun. Eagerly she knelt by the stream and drank deeply. She didn't lift her head to watch James fall to his knees by her side and drink thirstily as well.

The clear water tasted sweet in her parched mouth, and once her thirst was quenched, she settled back against a tree. She smiled weakly as James followed suit, his features tired, but his eyes demanding that she speak now. "Everything I know?" She murmured softly.

"Everything." James replied, his tone clipped.

Annalise nodded, in some ways this was the very least she could do. She began the tale with Jack Sparrow's death, for that was where the story truly began. She had to stifle her laughter as James looked absolutely aghast at the thought of her mother tricking Jack into facing his doom. She told him of the return of Captain Barbossa from the dead and of the voyage to World's End. She explained that not only had her mother been made a captain before being taken captive aboard the _Flying Dutchman_, but also a Pirate Lord.

"So Elizabeth proposed going to war against the East India Trading Company," James summarized in slight disbelief, "And _Jack Sparrow_ gave the vote to make her the Pirate King?"

Annalise nodded. In some ways she felt rather bad. The entire story seemed to be destroying his former preconceptions of people. Doggedly she continued, describing the freeing of Calypso and her parents' marriage during that final battle.

James winced. "They were married in the middle of a battle?" His green eyes held obvious distaste for this.

Annalise felt herself smiling sympathetically. "That's not the worst of it. Captain Barbossa performed the ceremony while fighting off the creatures that worked for Davy Jones." She nodded again, agreeing with the horrified expression that had spread across her listener's face, "I never found it romantic either." She whispered conspiratorially.

"Romantic!" He exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Don't tell me Elizabeth…" He stared at Annalise blankly. "Actually" He began softly, a defeated haughtiness to his voice, "She _would_ find it romantic."

She found herself summarizing the rest, for her mother had never been very good at telling the part of the story where her father was very nearly killed, and Davy Jones' heart stabbed. "And so," she concluded softly, "Will Turner became the new captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, charged with the task of ferrying the souls of the dead for ten years at a time." Her tone became slightly wistful, "With only one day on land for each ten years. Which is why I've only actually met my father once."

She observed the downcast expression upon James' face and smiled wickedly. "It's also the reason for there being nearly exactly ten years between my brother's birthday and my own." Her smile brightened when James lifted his head to give her a mildly appalled look. She laughed lightheartedly.

A heavy pause sank between them, as Annalise wondered if perhaps she'd overstepped some line. James was a gentleman after all, not a pirate like everyone else she knew. "So," She heard him begin softly, "What does all this have to do with what's happening now?"

She lifted her eyes to meet his earnest green ones. "What do you mean?" She replied innocently enough.

"Elizabeth mentioned something about a sea goddess, and some sort of deal you'd made…" James trailed off uncertainly.

Annalise felt her temper flare within her. "Of course!" She cried furiously, "Mother can't be bothered to tell you her own story, but she's ready to go tell everyone mine." From the corner of her eye she saw James flinch slightly. Calm down, she thought to herself, none of this is his fault. She found herself standing, facing away from James and the stream, staring out across the beach to the deep blue-green of the ocean.

"Forgive me." She heard her voice, soft and strangely tight. She let her gaze fall, choosing to stare at the sandy soil beneath her bare feet instead. "The Pirate Brethren are considering binding Calypso to human form once more." Her voice sounded flat in her ears. "She came to me because she needed someone to represent her before the Pirate Lords. In return…" Her voice cracked.

"She offered your father's freedom." She heard James' voice offer softly from behind her. She spun around, speechless. "Forgive me." He said softly, his eyes offering up an apology, "Before you were swept overboard, I couldn't help but overhear part of the conversation you had… I believe with this Calypso?"

Annalise nodded dumbly in response. James had such a deeply serious expression on his face. She wondered if it was right to lie, or was it lying if she just let him believe that her father's freedom was all there was to it. Hang it all, she thought bitterly, I'm allowed to lie, I'm a pirate after all. But something gnawed inside of her chest.

"I suppose we need food." She said finally. She looked at James, who was still leaning against the trunk of a large palm, looking far too exhausted to move. "You need your rest." She said firmly, "I'll go hunting."

"Hunting?" She heard his startled voice exclaim as she began to wander into the jungle. "Alone?" She turned around. "And with what? We have no weapons."

Annalise gave him a bemused smile. "You may not have any weapons." Silently, she pulled her small dagger from some hidden pocket in her breeches. Pulling off her shirt (much to James' shocked protests) she revealed a pistol strapped around her from her shoulder, hanging over a second, soft white shirt. She smiled at James, a look of bewildered awe on his face and laughed. "Mother always has at least two pistols and three daggers on her at all times. This is really nothing."

She tossed him the dagger. "Just in case." She said softly, heading off into the forest, her pistol in her hands. She waited until she was a fair distance into the jungle before she gave into her helpless giggles. The look on his face had been far too priceless. In a few moments she collected herself, wiping a stray tear from her eye. A horrified thought then leapt into her mind, what if that had all been far too forward, too familiar? She threw a terrified glance back in the direction she'd come from.

After all, James Norrington was, quite literally, the man of her dreams.

_By the way, I realized last night that I've completely forgotten to insert any disclaimers. I don't own Pirate of the Caribbean in any way, shape or form. If I did, you can be certain dear James would not have died. I suppose Annalise and the storyline are mine, however, in reality I'm just playing with other people's characters. :P_


	10. Familiarity

_**Something Better**_

"_Just in case." She said softly, disappearing from sight into the jungle, a pistol in her hands. _

**Chapter 10: Familiarity**

James let his eyes follow after the young woman until the green vegetation had swallowed her up. He closed his eyes, exhaustion was pulling at his body, but his mind was swimming with what he had learned. "Care and devotion," he muttered bitterly, thinking about the day he'd given Elizabeth up. He paused in his thoughts, one day in ten years… perhaps that was devotion. Though it certainly didn't strike him as care. He sighed, trying to clear his mind so sleep would come. There would be plenty of time to dwell on all this after he'd rested.

His sleep was fractured, however, tainted with vivid dreams and emotions so strong he couldn't truly call it rest. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of someone approaching. Without moving he watched Annalise stride through the thick jungle, arriving by the stream and letting a brace of some sort of bird fall to the ground. Through half-lidded eyes he watched her drink from the stream, scooping the water to her lips and sipping daintily. He watched the water sparkle as it slipped through her fingers. And sleep overtook him again.

It was a far deeper sleep this time, one less plagued by tortured dreams. He woke again to the smell of roasting fowl, and the crackle of a fire. He opened his eyes to deep shadows and the silhouette of a figure sitting by the fire. Evening had begun to fall while he had slept. Without turning in his direction the silhouette spoke, "I know this island."

Running his tongue across his cracked lips, James rose and walked the few steps to the stream. Swallowing a few greedy mouthfuls of water, he replied. "I should think this island large enough to be on a least a few of the maps."

Annalise half turned to look at him. "No, I mean I've been here before." She said softly. "There's a plantation about a day's hike from here, with a small village." He stared at her for a long moment. He certainly couldn't remember anything of the sort being in this area of the Caribbean. She was looking at him with an amused expression, "It was only built about seven years ago." She added wryly.

"Oh." He heard himself reply dumbly. "That would be new then."

She nodded in reply, turning to face the fire again. "An older couple left England, eager to get away from the crowds. Apparently they've been fairly successful." She poked the plucked birds suspended above the fire. The sound of crisp skin breaking set James' mouth watering. "They're done." Annalise announced. It took only seconds for James to find himself sitting by her side, one of the smallish birds burning his finger tips as he devoured it eagerly.

After a few steaming bites he lifted his head. Annalise was staring at him sideways. "And here I thought gentleman had better table manners." Self-consciously James lowered the roasted bird from his mouth. He could feel grease on his lips, and running down his hands. It was, to be quite honest, disgusting. Annalise was neatly pulling the bird apart on a large leaf she appeared to be using as a plate, lifting only small bite-sized pieces to her mouth. He met her eyes again only to realize she was laughing at him.

"I assure you I don't normally eat like this." He said in a voice that strained to protect any remnants of his dignity.

"I'm certain you don't." She replied, her voice sweet and serious despite her laughter.

"I speak the truth. I merely forgot myself in my hunger."

"I know. I believe you."

Her voice was terribly sweet and understanding, but James could still hear her laughter in his ears, and the sparkle in her eyes wasn't just from the reflection of the fire's dancing flames. She seemed so terribly impertinent. A woman who carried concealed weapons, knew how to hunt, and then ate as daintily as a… well even Elizabeth had never eaten so daintily, even with utensils. James lifted the dripping bird back to his mouth, taking another disturbingly large bite of the roasted bird. He could hear Annalise choke back a laugh but refused to look up at her. He took another bite, her laughter now full and alive. It was a terribly beautiful sound.

"You look so disgusted with yourself." Her voice was high-pitched and sweet in his ears, helpless with laughter.

"I am." He replied, casting his gaze about hopelessly for something better to wipe the grease with than his sleeve, an act he was certain would condemn him back to being a dirty pirate.

"Here." James looked back at Annalise and gratefully accepted the handkerchief she held out to him.

He'd only held it a moment before looking up at her in mild shock. "It's lace." He sputtered.

The young woman sitting across from him shrugged. "I like pretty things." James stared at her for a long moment, suddenly wondering just how much more there was to her than what one first saw.

He offered to take the first watch, letting Annalise get some sleep. From what he understood, they'd have to spend the better part of tomorrow walking across the island in order to reach civilization. His eyes trailed away from the leaping flames of their fire and focused on his companion's features. In the orange glow of the fire, her face was a contrast of warmth and shadow, possibly more beautiful that her mother's had ever been. It was the first time he'd watched a woman sleeping, he realized. It was almost troubling how innocent, how lovely she looked, even with her hand wrapped tightly around her pistol. James averted his gaze; too familiar, he thought mournfully, almost wishing he were more of a pirate.

By the time the sun had fully risen, the pair was already hiking through the tropical forest. They walked in a strangely comfortable silence, pointing out exotic looking birds as they flew by in bursts of colour and noise. By the time it was midday, they had reached the other side of the island, and had only to follow the coastline around to the village. Annalise walked ahead of James as they ambled along the top of a cliff.

James watched as the wind blew Annalise's loose tresses about, occasionally wrapping themselves around into her face. His hand grasped a loose ribbon in his pocket, an extra he'd grabbed when he'd tied back his own on the _Freedom_. Taking a few extra strides he caught up to Annalise. "Hold up." He said softly, gathering her hair back gently and tying the ribbon about it.

He wasn't prepared for her hair to be quite so soft or thick as it was. He hadn't thought that his hands would graze the sides of her face and neck. He hadn't dreamt that her skin would be so soft or smooth. He felt his breath catch in his throat as her scent, a mix of sea salt and tropical flowers, washed over him. He stepped back, her sun-bleached chestnut hair tamed by the black ribbon. Too forward, his mind stuttered to itself, and far too familiar.

Then she spun around, her soft brown eyes upon his. "Thank you," She said with a smile, "I always forget to tie it back. William does it for me most of the time."

"Your welcome," He heard himself stutter. Perhaps it was alright then, a brotherly act. He took a deep breath as Annalise started forward again. He didn't think, however, that the desire he felt to run his hands through her hair once more, to tangle his fingers in the long tresses, and to lose himself in her scent could possibly be considered brotherly in the least.

James watched Annalise walk ahead of him. His eyes taking in the angle of her head, the short glances back at him to make sure he was still close behind, the sweet tones of her voice as she pointed out various things, and he felt as if he were a drowning man. He shook his head suddenly. "No," he whispered under his breath, too softly for Annalise to hear his words, "I will not do this again." He gathered all these traitorous thoughts and bound them tight, struggling to bury them deeply in his mind, beneath Navy protocols and prayers. He'd lost his heart once. He was not at all prepared to lose it again.


	11. Like a Dream

_**Something Better**_

_He'd lost his heart once. He was not at all prepared to lose it again._

**Chapter 11: Like a Dream**

Annalise walked across the fields that opened out before her. The village and the plantation were visible now, hugging the coastline. She shook her head, attempting to prepare herself for facing civilization again. Unfortunately, her head was as full of clouds as ever.

She sighed softly; James Norrington was proving to be more complex than she'd first thought. He was everything her mother had said he was, but more as well. She'd known not to expect him to be a perfect gentleman, after all, her mother had told her just as frequently about his time aboard the _Black Pearl_ as any other. She hadn't expected those slips to be... endearing though. She stole a glance back at the man. His features had a distance to them. She smiled weakly to herself as she turned around, conflicting emotions swirling in her mind. He was a real person. No longer just a daydream, or a harmless fancy.

"You should probably give me the pistol." His deep voice interrupted.

"What?" Annalise gasped, tightening her hold on the weapon possessively.

A frustrated sigh came behind her, though Annalise was certain there was a hint of amusement about it. "Because you already look suspicious enough dressed in breeches rather than a dress. If you walk in holding a pistol you'll make enemies."

Annalise stopped walking and turned to face James. She stared up at him, suddenly realizing how much taller than her he was. She swallowed slowly, lifting her hand holding the pistol and holding it out to him. "I'll want it back."

She watched his hand close around the gun, "I prefer swords as a general rule." He said with a tight smile.

"So what's our story then?" Annalise said suddenly. "I'm assuming you've figured out a brilliant plan."

* * *

Annalise sighed softly, following behind James as they strode up to the plantation house. James was looking more and more apprehensive, likely because no one had yet appeared. He knocked on the door softly, the pistol held in his hand. Annalise twitched slightly, feeling rather useless. She still had a small dagger tucked away in her boot, but it was really only a last resort type of weapon. Which meant that for all intensive purposes, her life was in James Norrington's hands.

She was surprised, after all her daydreams and fantasies, that the real thing was so much less thrilling. She was used to the feel of a pistol in her hands. Despite being the ship's dreamer, she still knew how to handle herself in a battle, and she was used to being the back up. Playing the part of a damsel in distress was proving… distressing. She looked up at James, standing still by the door, focused intently upon it. It was nice to feel protected this way though. She just found herself wanting to be an equal, not baggage.

The door creaked open slowly. An older man stood by the door. He rose an eyebrow artfully to take in the ragged clothes of the two people on his doorstep. "We were attacked by pirates." Annalise heard herself say, in a voice so desperate and soft, you could swear she'd practiced (which she in fact, had). She then let herself delicately crumble; just slowly enough that James could leap back to catch her before she fell.

"Annalise!" James gasped, catching her in his arms.

Annalise forgot her act for a moment. His arms were surprisingly strong. His chest was pressed against her shoulder so tightly she could feel his heartbeat against her skin. Her mouth went dry. She supposed he'd held her before, when he'd leapt overboard to keep her from drowning. She found herself cursing the fact she'd been unconscious.

"O dear." She heard the butler's flustered voice. "Please sir, do come in. Let the lady rest upon the sofa."

"We're in." She heard James murmur in her ear, his breathe warm against her skin. A moment later she felt herself being gently placed upon the sofa, soft cushions supporting her body. She let her eyelids flutter open uncertainly and heard herself gasp softly. She now lay in the most beautiful room she'd ever seen in her life.

She lifted her head to get a better look, forcing herself to move slowly, keeping to her act. The wallpaper was a rich pale blue, the furniture consisted of polished wood and overstuffed sofas and chairs, and the elderly couple who stood in the doorway anxiously were wearing the loveliest fabrics Annalise had ever seen. And these were merely plantation owners, she thought weakly.

She heard James clear his throat. "I am terribly sorry to intrude. My wife and I were traveling and our ship was beset by pirates. We had heard," He paused, casting a troubled look towards Annalise, "That pirates are not always gentlemen when they come across young ladies." A hint at an excuse for the way she was dressed.

Annalise stared up at James in admiration. She would never have expected him to be such a good liar. His expression was clearly troubled, and he continued to shoot worried glances at his "wife" as he related the fictitious tale of their escape and subsequent arrival upon the island.

"You poor things." The older woman cried sympathetically, "Beset by pirates. Did you hear that, Robert?" She glanced at the man who stood by her side. She stepped daintily over to Annalise's side, smoothing her hair soothingly. "You poor dear. You'll just have to stay with us."

"Indeed." The older man continued, "You must Mr..." He glanced at James with a kindly look.

"James." Norrington replied. "James… Groves. And my wife, Annalise."

"Well then Mr. and Mrs. Groves, you'll have to stay with us, at least until the next ship stops in." The kindly older man said with a smile. "My name is Robert Harden," he gestured to the elderly lady who was still fussing over Annalise, "my wife, Margaret."

"It is wonderful indeed to make your acquaintance, Mr. Harden." James replied with a slight bow. "Your kindness shall not be forgotten."

"Come now James, its Robert. I insist." Annalise watched the two men with a bemused expression. Robert turned his gaze over to his wife, who still sat stroking Annalise's hair. "Margaret," He said softly, tenderness evident in his aged voice, "Perhaps we should provide our guests with a room?"

"Of course!" She cried. "Stanley," she turned her attention to the butler. "Please prepare a room for Mr. and Mrs. Groves. They will be staying with us. Perhaps the green room?" She turned her dazzling smile back to Annalise. "So pirates you said?" Her soft blue eyes sparkled behind the wrinkles that lined them, a tone that begged to know more in her voice.

"Indeed." Annalise whispered. "Terrible sorts."

The older woman nodded sympathetically. "We've lost several of our servants, and most of the village. There's been word that there are pirates in these waters, attacking settlements so everyone is getting away before it happens. It is because the pirates are dying away," Annalise picked up the melancholic tone to the woman's words, "and so they are desperate I suppose. Very soon there will be no more room left in this world for adventures of that sort."

"And that will likely be for the best, in the case of travelers such as James and Annalise." He husband concluded from the doorway, his eyes twinkling in merriment. He smiled at Annalise, "My wife does not mean to belittle your hardship. She's always had the strange notion that pirates are romantic." She shook his head fondly at his wife.

Annalise smiled softly, not because of what Mr. Harden had said, but because of James' expression when he said this. James had rolled his eyes and stifled what sounded like a cough. Thinking of mother, she thought wistfully, romantic notions of her own welling up inside her mind.

"Well, my dear," Mrs. Harden interrupted her thoughts. "I'm certain you will feel far more comfortable back in a dress." Annalise stared at the woman, a smile blossoming widely across her lips. "After a bath, of course." For a moment, Annalise wondered if she hadn't slipped away into one of her own daydreams.

* * *

Annalise practically floated into the dining hall for dinner. If it weren't for the continued rumbling of her stomach, she would have felt like a perfect lady. Her emerald green dress cut low across her chest, and the skirts swished delicately around her feet. The servant girl who'd tended to her had managed to pin her hair up into something elegant and smooth looking. She'd gasped when she'd looked into a mirror, astonished to see herself looking more lovely then she'd even dreamt of looking.

Now she sashayed across the dining room, her lips set into a coy little smile as she soaked up the appreciative gazes from her hosts, and the well-restrained look of surprise on James' features. She smiled at him, as he rose to pull out her chair. "You look lovely." He murmured softly into her ear.

Annalise felt her heartbeat quicken. The stubble he had been growing the past few days was now shaved away neatly, his clothes now as fine as hers. She had to swallow hard when he let his hand trail slightly down his arm, to remember that this was just an act. He was playing her loving husband, and that was all.

She smiled at him again, as he settled back into his seat beside her. His face was a mask of restraint, but in his eyes, she could see something else. Some turmoil of emotion. She turned to the plate of food being set in front of her. For the moment, she felt like enjoying this dream.

The older couple bade them goodnight early in the evening, giving each other long looks as both Annalise and James attempted to hide yawns. "Stanley will show you to your room," Margaret said softly, "We hope you sleep well."

Annalise felt more than ready to simply drop into bed. A real bed! With a mattress and soft pillows. She leaned slightly on James' arm as Stanley led them down a hallway. He opened the door and set a flickering candle down upon a dresser. "Here you are," He said stiffly, "Goodnight sir," he bowed stiffly, "madam," and disappeared back down the hall.

By the light of the fire Stanley must have lit earlier in the evening, and the moonlight that poured in through the window Annalise could see it was a beautiful room. Her eyes wandered across the shadowy forms of furniture and gilt-edged paintings, until they landed finally upon the bed. "Oh," she said in soft dismay.

She felt James shift awkwardly near her side, stepping away from her as if to put space in between them. "They do believe we are married." He said in a soft tone, surveying the room as well. He stepped over to the bed, pulling apart the carefully made bed and removing a blanket or two and a pillow. "I'll sleep on the floor." He said, turning to face Annalise, "Please take the bed, Miss Turner."

Annalise felt the corner of her lips twitch upwards into a smile. Of course he would become more proper when placed into such a situation. "Are you sure?" She heard herself ask.

"I've slept on worse." He replied, a rueful tone to his voice.

And so Annalise found herself alone upon the queen-sized bed, tucked between soft sheets and feather duvet, lying back upon the softest pillow she'd ever found. She shuffled over to the side of the bed and lifted her head to look down at the expanse of floor between the bed and the fireplace where James lay. An affectionate smile crossed her lips and she lay back down upon the pillows. It was all definitely like a dream.


	12. Of Marriage and Corsets

_**Something Better**_

Sorry for the wait... hopefully this extra long chapter will make up for it. The next one will be out much faster, I promise!_**  
**_

_An affectionate smile crossed her lips and she lay back down upon the pillows. It was all definitely like a dream._

**Chapter 12: Of Marriage and Corsets**

It was with a casual glance that James greeted Annalise as she came down the stairs to the main hall. His double take lasted slightly longer.

He'd awoken before her, rising stiffly from the hardwood floor. Awkwardly, he placed the pillow he'd slept upon beside Annalise's sleeping form, folding the blankets he'd used and placing them at the foot of the bed. Exiting the room as silently as possible, he had wandered down the hall until he nearly ran into the butler, Stanley.

"If you are looking for a bath, sir," the elderly man began stiffly, "it is right this way." James smiled warmly, the thought of two baths in as many days making him feel more like a gentleman than anything else had yet.

It felt more than refreshing to be clean and in fine clothes, James found himself thinking as he stepped into the front hall of the grand house. The older couple was speaking softly to each other, and James smiled at the few words that floated over to his ears. "I am just so pleased with the garden this year. Just look at how beautiful these flowers are, Robert." Margaret said fussing over a large bouquet sitting on fine teak stand.

"Not quite so beautiful as you." Her husband replied softly, taking his wife's hand and kissing it gently. He turned then to welcome James, unabashed at being seen in such a tender moment with his wife. "Life is only good when one has a loving wife, don't you think, James?"

James felt his smile almost slip from his lips, mentally chastising himself. He was supposedly married to Annalise, now was not the time to dwell on the sad reality of his marital status. Any man who found himself married to a creature such as Annalise should be delirious with happiness, he thought to himself, glancing up the stairs as said woman descended the wide staircase to join them.

A glance which suddenly turned out to be not nearly enough. James felt his head turn back around to look at Annalise without any command on his part. She looked a vision. If she had been beautiful last night, there were now simply no words left to describe her. Her gown appeared to be made of a pale blue silk, a simple cut with no embroidery. It clung to her curves, widening out in her skirts and pooling gracefully to the floor. Her golden brown hair was piled atop of her head in an elegant twist. She looked ready to grace the social circles of England, not merely a quiet brunch on a near-empty island. He finally remembered to breathe.

Remembering himself, he tried now to school his face back into some measure of seriousness, rather than the look of an awestruck schoolboy he feared he'd been wearing before. "Goodmorning, Annalise." he said, gently taking her arm.

"Goodmorning James!" She replied, her eyes sparkling and her voice quivering with excitement. She turned to face the older couple. "And goodmorning Mr. and Mrs. Harden! And thank you so much for letting me wear this dress! It's the most lovely thing I've ever worn."

The couple chuckled softly. "It's Margaret, dear." The older woman finally replied. "And I am so glad you like it." Her features softened, "It is terribly nice to see it worn again."

"Well then," her husband interjected, "I do believe brunch is being served as we speak," he gestured towards the dining room, ushering the small group towards the polished wood doors that opened into the dining room.

James relaxed into the fine mahogany chairs. They were carved to be both elegant and comfortable, and the rich wood of the dining set reminded him of better times. He looked up at Annalise, not that these weren't good times right now. The smile she wore was simply dazzling. Her eyes sparkled with pure enjoyment at being surrounded by such fine things. He sighed softly, it was really a crime that Elizabeth had brought her up on a pirate's ship, of all places. Annalise should have been privy to a childhood as privileged as Elizabeth's own had been.

"You said it was nice to see this dress worn again," Annalise said softly between dainty bites of breakfast scone. "Was it once yours?"

Margaret laughed. "I wish, my dear! I'm afraid I was never quite so slim as you." Her voice took on a more wistful tone. "That dress actually belonged to our daughter, Eleanor." Her gaze fell slightly.

"Eleanor passed away several years ago." Robert continued. "She had always had a weak constitution, and the consumption turned out to be just too much for her."

James looked over at Annalise, who'd dropped her scone to her china plate. Her eyes were clouded with emotion and her smile had drifted away. "That's terrible." She whispered softly, "I'm so sorry." Her voice trembled slightly, and James found himself staring at her wonderingly. She was really feeling the older couple's pain. Most of the young women he had met would look sympathetic and mouth words of comfort, but Annalise looked as though she really cared. Even Elizabeth had never been one for granting sympathy.

"Are you certain you don't mind me wearing her clothes?" She continued softly. "I'd feel awful if it's bringing back sad memories…"

"Not at all!" Margaret cried. "I meant it when I said it was good to see them being worn. You look so happy, so radiant in them. It does me good to see a young woman so full of life as you are, my dear."

Brunch continued in silence after that. Suddenly Margaret stood, "Don't mind me dears," she announced, "But I hate to make the cook both set and clear the tables, so I always make a habit of helping to clean up."

"I'll help." Annalise piped in. "Please?" She said with a winning smile when Margaret looked as if she'd turn her down.

James watched the two women carry the dishes into the kitchen, noting suspiciously that Annalise never had finished that scone. "She's a wonderful woman." Robert said suddenly. "You are a lucky man, James. Women like her are few and far between. Good job marrying her quick."

James looked over at his host. "She is rather something, isn't she?" He replied with a half-smile.

"Though I can't help but notice that the Mrs. Groves doesn't appear to be wearing a wedding ring."

A momentary burst of panic ran through James' veins. "It was lost…"

"In the pirate attack?" Robert finished with a bemused expression. He leaned forward across the table. "James, I've been watching you and I believe you are a good man. Whether you and Annalise are truly married or not does not bother me, because I can see in your eyes that you two truly care for each other." He paused and stared at James earnestly, "What I am saying, is that if you by chance are not married, marry her quick. She's not the type you want to let slip away."

James blinked. "I… well, I suppose… I'm going to check to see if the ladies need any help in the kitchen." He stuttered, excusing himself from the table and forcing himself not to run out of Mr. Harden's sight. Once out of the dining room he took a deep breath and stilled his heart. How close were they to being found out for the frauds they were? On the other hand, he mused, was that really the thought that had started his heart racing? He had a suspicious feeling that it was more the idea of making Annalise his wife that had started that. He shook his head. Now was not the time for such thoughts. In fact, there would never be a time for such thoughts, James thought to himself firmly as he swung open the door to the kitchen.

Annalise stood elbow deep in sudsy water, laughing and talking with Margaret. "And then she says: Parley! And the terrible pirate captain has no choice but to listen to her request, but she forgets to specify that she is to be sent back into the port. The pirates leave the town alone sure enough, but with my mother as their captive!"

"Oh dear! What an outrageous tale!" Margaret said laughing. "Tell me more about these terrible pirates."

Annalise shook her head. "I can't believe that you want to hear about pirates when you live in such a beautiful home." She sighed wistfully, "With such beautiful things and such a peaceful life."

Margaret smiled back at the young woman. "Sometimes it's the peacefulness that is the problem. Don't you ever find yourself bored simply doing your embroidery?"

James watched Annalise's sheepish smile and suddenly found himself questioning whether she knew how to embroider at all. He smiled to himself, it would be just like Elizabeth to neglect to teach her daughter the finer societal habits in favour of learning to shoot a pistol. He cleared his throat in the doorway. "I don't suppose there is anything I can help you ladies with in here?"

"Such a gentleman." Margaret said with a smile, elbowing Annalise gently. "I think we are just about finished here actually, James. Why don't you take your pretty wife for a walk in the gardens?"

Annalise quickly wiped her hands on a stray towel, hastily untying an apron from around her slender waist. James watched her duck her head slightly, strangely pleased to see a slight blush upon her face. A blush which it seemed was actually for him.

* * *

James led Annalise out into the gardens with a smile straying across his lips. "You look lovely today." He heard himself say.

To his pleasure a blush once again crept across Annalise's features. "I love this dress." she confided. "I've had all of three dresses in my entire life, and I outgrew the last one six years ago. Mother always said that breeches were far more practical on a ship."

James nodded, "Well then what was the occasion for the dresses?"

Annalise laughed. "The first two were simply for my fancy. When I was a child I was in love with the idea of pretty things, and the life mother told me about with such distain. The third was for the day I met my father. Mother was afraid that if she didn't put me in a dress father would think he had a second son." She sighed and shook her head, a single ringlet of her dark hair slipping from the twisted mass to frame her face.

The pair walked in silence for a moment through the myriad flowers. James smiled at the sight of several flowers familiar to him from his youth in England. Many more were tropical, though they seemed to have a tamed look, as if cultivation had taken something from them rather than increased their beauty. Tearing his gaze from the flowers and shrubs that lined the path, James studied Annalise's features. She seemed slightly paler today than usual. He took a deep breath and decided to attempt at conversation. "I cannot imagine what it would have been like to grow up…"

"On a pirate ship?" Annalise finished, flashing a slight smirk at him. "It was certainly unconventional." She raised a hand to her forehead for a moment. "Is it rather hot out today?" She said softly, gazing out over the blue ocean that stretched into the distance.

"I was actually going to say without having met your father." James looked at Annalise with slight concern as they walked through the garden. "It is rather bright out." But no hotter or brighter than it had been yesterday when they had hiked across the island, he thought worriedly.

Annalise nodded slightly. "I think that's why mother told so many stories." She seemed to pause to take a breath, though it may have been merely to smell the large purple flower that drooped heavily from its branch into the garden path. "She was always telling me about father. It was only when she ran out of stories about him that she started telling me about you and Uncle Jack."

The path wound close to the headland, overlooking the ocean from the top of a shallow cliff face. James watched as Annalise closed her eyes and smiled softly as the ocean breeze blew up and past them through the garden. "If I ever have a house," she said softly, "I want it to overlook the ocean."

James nodded in agreement. "The sea has always been the constant in my life. Even before I joined the Navy it always held a certain fascination." He glanced over at Annalise, who seemed to be breathing rather shallowly. "I fear that during my time climbing the ranks I forgot that fascination."

James' followed Annalise's gaze out over the ocean. "I'm worried." She whispered softly. "If I'm not there at the second meeting of the Pirate Brethren, I'm not sure Calypso will keep her freedom." James narrowed his eyes at the breathy sound of her voice. He cleared his throat, prepared to ask if she wanted to sit down when those few words he'd been half-expecting to hear whispered their way into his ear. "I can't breathe." Annalise whispered, slight panic rising in her voice as she began to collapse.

James sprung into action, wrapping his arms around Annalise's form before she even lost her footing. "Annalise!" He hissed roughly, her head leaning limply against his shoulder. Gently he carried her away from the cliff edge, there was no way he would allow the same thing to happen twice in his lifetime. He placed her softly down upon the grass. Her breathing was even shallower than before, rapid and light. "Annalise." He hissed; half tempted to shake her awake.

He sighed softly, a hand resting upon her slender waist. Realization dawned upon him as his fingers brushed across the whalebone hidden beneath the silk. "It would have to be a corset." In a moment he was undoing the stays of the blue silk dress, pulling it away as quickly as he could without damaging it. James pulled the dagger Annalise had lent him from his pocket and slit the ties that laced the terrible contraption together. He stared up at Annalise's face, relieved to see colour immediately returning to her face. Her breathing deepened and James sighed with relief.

Only to realize a moment later how utterly improper this all was.


	13. Reality

_**Something Better**_

_Her breathing deepened and James sighed with relief. Only to realize a moment later how utterly improper this all was. _

**Chapter 13: Reality**

Annalise felt her eyelids flutter open, the bright sunlight dazzling her for a moment as she struggled to remember why exactly she was lying on the ground. Her vision cleared and James' worried face filled her view, though when she blinked it seemed to transform into a look of relief. Annalise stared at James for a long moment, trying to remember what had happened that would make him look worried. She sat up slowly. A new thing to remember: why exactly the dress she had been wearing now sat in a scrunched ball to the side of her feet.

She looked up at James in confusion, suddenly noticing the corset the servant girl had laced her into that morning discarded by James' side. A weak smile crossed her lips. "I did tell Marie that she was lacing the silly thing too tight."

She was rewarded by a nervous smile from James. "I was rather afraid you'd think it improper for me to have taken the liberty…" he trailed off, waving a distracted hand at the scrunched ball of pale blue silk. His expression was one of mixed emotions, relief blending with nervousness.

Annalise let herself smile. She reached out a tentative hand and rested it on James' arm. "I'm just happy you caught me." She said softly, looking up at his vividly green eyes from beneath her eyelashes.

"I like to think I can learn from my past mistakes." He replied in a quiet voice.

Annalise felt her gaze drawn up into his. His voice was soft but strong, his tone carrying none of the nervousness that had marred his features just moments ago. Looking into his eyes she felt the full weight of the situation impress itself upon her. Wasn't it funny that her dream gentleman had saved her by pulling a stunt copied off a pirate?

She licked her lips, suddenly feeling them dry. For a moment she could have sworn James' sea green eyes had darted to her lips. What would it be like, she felt the idle thought wander through her mind, to be kissed by James? Surely she had dreamt of such a moment dozens, if not hundreds, of times before. But the idea suddenly felt new, urgent, meaningful almost.

And then her gaze flickered for a moment and she was suddenly focused upon a pirate ship coming around the island. A ship flying the colours of a certain Chinese woman pirate. Annalise gasped, "Mistress Ching!" Her eyes widened as another pirate ship slunk around the island and opened fire upon the familiar ship.

James turned around then to follow her gaze, confusion crossing his features. Annalise grabbed his hand. "C'mon," she cried, "The ship they're firing upon belongs to one of the Pirate Lords!"

"I know that ship," she heard James murmur softly as he stood, his eyes still watching the battle that was beginning so quickly in the bay.

"We have to hurry!" Annalise cried, pulling James along by the hand, scooping up the discarded dress as she began to run back towards the house. "We need to get out there!"

Annalise rushed into the plantation's house, her breathing heavy. She was suddenly extremely thankful that James had pulled the corset and the heavy silk dress off of her. There was no way she would have been able to run if he hadn't. She'd had enough trouble simply eating breakfast and walking through the garden. Running would have been near impossible.

Her eyes darted quickly around the gorgeous foyer, coming to rest on the terrified expressions of Mr. and Mrs. Harden. "Do you have a dingy?" She cried out to them, their eyes staring at her blankly. "Any sort of small boat?"

The elderly couple stared at her, and Annalise suddenly realized the state she must look to them – in nothing but the long pale shift that went beneath her dress, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders, already tousled by the wind and her frantic running. "Here," she said suddenly, thrusting the crumpled silk dress into the arms of a servant who had entered the foyer looking wide-eyed. "Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Harden for your hospitality," she began.

"It is of the utmost importance that we commandeer a small boat from you." James' rich voice interrupted suddenly. "I'm afraid we have need to get out to those pirate ships."

"But they're pirates!" Mr. Harden finally sputtered, his face pale.

"Yes, but I _know_ one of them." Annalise cried in frustration. "And I _need_ to be where she is supposed to be going!"

"She?" Mrs. Harden said suddenly, her fear-frozen mask falling away to reveal pure curiosity. "A female pirate?"

"Yes," Annalise replied. "Mistress Ching. She sails out of Chinese waters."

"As fascinating as it is," James cut in dryly, "There is a battle out there and I fear the longer we wait the more likely it will become that someone will open fire upon the settlement. If you would be so kind as to lend us a boat, we may at least be able to prevent such an outcome."

Mr. Harden stared at James for a long moment. "You aren't at all what you claim to be, are you?" he said slowly.

"Robert!" Mrs. Harden interrupted sharply. "I do believe these two young people asked for a boat." She turned to her husband. "I demand that you give them one."

Mr. Harden stared at his wife for a long moment. He turned his gaze to James. "Down by the docks is a boat shed, there should be two small boats in there. Take the second one, the first one leaks." James gave a curt nod.

In a moment Annalise wondered how she had been pulling James before. Now he seemed several steps in front of her as he sprinted for the boat shed. "I know that ship," he said again, "It's the _Eel's Rage_. The ship I signed onto out of Tortuga before spotting your mother's." Swiftly, he maneuvered the small boat out of the boat shed and into the surf. "Get in." He ordered, the Naval officer in him showing its colours. In a moment the pair were nearing the ships, slowing their paddling and attempting to sneak up on the two ships.

Annalise sighed softly. "Mistress Ching is losing." she whispered. "They've boarded her ship." She pointed up at the lines that connected the two ships.

"More's the pity." James replied, his voice carrying the same dry tone despite its lowered volume. "The crew of the _Eel's Rage_ is a murderous one. Likely they will turn on the settlement as soon as they have finished taking over this ship."

"We can't let them." Annalise hissed. "Mistress Ching is a Pirate Lord. In three days she needs to be back at Shipwreck Cove, me in tow."

"Us." James replied, looking at Annalise a little strangely, she thought. "Us in tow." Annalise watched him angle their little boat beside Mistress Ching's ship. He glanced up at the steep sides and reached for a rope. He gave it a strong pull and when it didn't come loose began to climb. Annalise reached up beside him, tugging on a separate line and following James up. She glanced at him for a moment as she passed him, pleased to see surprise in his eyes.

"I take it you can fight, as well?" he said wryly, an amused smile crossing his lips.

Annalise smiled back, "You don't want to cross swords with me, Mr. Norrington." She refocused her attention on the melee above and finished clambering up the rope. She slid stealthily over the ship's rail, ducking down. She smiled grimly. By her side lay a dead man, a sword running through his middle, pinning him to the deck. She grasped the sword and pulled it out. She tossed it between her hands for a second, getting the feel of the blade. She stuck her head up, staring into the bloody battle. She felt James' presence beside her, drawing her pistol out with one hand and retrieving the fallen man's sword from his cold grasp with the other. She didn't turn to look at him. "Here we go," she murmured.

Her blood thundered through her veins, the same way it did in every battle. She had only been nine when her brother had insisted upon teaching her how to fight with a sword, but between him, the single day sparring with her father, and the constant tutelage of an entire pirate crew, Annalise had become a thing to be reckoned with by the time she was thirteen. When she was twelve her mother had stranded her upon a deserted island for a week with nothing but a pistol and enough powder and ammunition for ten shots. "Make every shot count," her mother had said firmly. Annalise had eaten fresh meat every night that week and still had a shot left when her mother had retrieved her.

It was almost odd the things that had made Captain Elizabeth Turner proud.

And so Annalise Turner, who dreamed of being a lady, proved to be a deadly creature to face in battle. Her sword clashed against steel, and slashed through flesh, a resounding cry running through the thinned ranks of Mistress Ching's crew as they spotted her, fighting on their side. "It's Captain Turner's daughter!" The excited cries echoed across the ship as she carved a bloody path through the attackers. She glanced across the deck for a moment, noting with pleasure that James was doing just as well on his side of the ship. He met her gaze for a second, nodding grimly.

Annalise followed the nod and met with him back-to-back at the doors to the captain's quarters. "You go ahead." he nodded, opening the door for her without looking, the pistol long since dropped when it had run out of shots. "I'll finish this here." His eyes darted across the deck, singling out his former shipmates before jumping back into the fight with fervor.

Annalise stepped slowly into Mistress Ching's cabin. It was surprisingly quiet in here, despite the battle raging outside, one in which the tides had turned with the arrival of herself and James. She peered into the shadows and suddenly spotted a still form, a look of shocked surprise frozen upon his features, a deadly-looking Chinese blade stuck in their half-carved neck. Annalise shuddered. Mistress Ching was a deadly foe.

Her gaze scattered to the left, and she noticed a figure lying prone upon the floor. "Mistress Ching!" she gasped. A bloody sword lay by her side, surrounded by a pool of blood. Annalise fell to her knees by the ancient woman's side. A ragged gash cut open a good portion of her right side, and blood trickled slowly, running down to join the widening pool. "Mistress Ching." Annalise repeated, her voice falling into despair. They were too late!

"An… na." The old woman's voice choked out. Her eyes rolling into Annalise's direction. "Eliza… beth's daugh… ter." The old woman gave a heavy sigh and a thick choking cough. She attempted to raise a sleeve to blot the blood that trickled from the corner of her wrinkled mouth, but let it fall before it neared her face, already exhausted. "I am dying." She said softly but calmly.

"No, no you aren't. You'll be alright." Annalise cried frantically. "We'll get you fixed up, you'll see."

"Don't be foolish, child." The crone replied. "I have lived my life." She coughed again. "Longer than… most." Her eyes seemed to lose focus. "You are captain." She said, her eyes wide and unseeing. "Captain… Anna… Turner." Her head lolled in Annalise's direction. "At the Pirate Brethren…" her voice trailed away. Another thick cough. "I would vote with you." Her eyes seemed to focus on Annalise for a moment. "Be strong." She whispered hoarsely, the last words she would ever say.

Annalise stared hopelessly at the woman's body. Her crimson blood pooled by Annalise's side, staining the far corner of her shift's hem. "No," Annalise murmured hoarsely. "No." Tears welled up in her eyes and the room swam. Shock ran through her veins, and then the sharpness of realization set in. Her vision snapped back into focus as an icy sensation ran down her spine. "Calypso." She snarled, fury in her voice. "Calypso!"


	14. Dread Pirate

_**Something Better**_

_Shock ran through her veins, and then the sharpness of realization set in. Her vision snapped back into focus as an icy sensation ran down her spine. "Calypso." She snarled, fury in her voice. "Calypso!"_

**Chapter 14: Dread Pirate**

James glanced for a moment at the blade of his newly-acquired sword. Crimson blood pooled upon the steel blade, forming tiny droplets before dripping steadily to the deck below. His sea-green eyes followed the blade to its tip, where it was pointed sharply at one of his former "crewmate's" neck. He lifted his gaze to meet the man's terrified eyes.

The sound of steel clattering to the wooden deck echoed across the ship, stilling the still-raging battle. All eyes turned to the source of the sound: James and the man who stood trembling at sword point before him. The remaining crew of the _Eel's Rage_ looked from their unfortunate crewmate, to each other, and finally to their opponents. To James' chagrin, a look of dumb surprise spread across their darkly smudged faces as if to inquire if they hadn't in fact been winning just minutes before?

"Surrender." James said suddenly, his tone commanding. Six swords dropped to the deck, a seventh clattering down just seconds behind the others. James smiled grimly, glancing around the ship's deck, taking stock of those who remained and of who had fallen. He spotted the first mate of the _Eel's Rage_ sprawled limply near the mast, obviously dead, but the captain was nowhere to be seen.

James turned his gaze towards the doors to the captain's quarters. Something like panic arced through his body, mingling with the adrenaline that already pounded through his veins. It would certainly be something to cut down a Pirate Lord, wouldn't it? He bit his lip hard to keep himself from imaging the terrible fate that Annalise may have encountered – she seemed so delicate. His frantic thoughts paused for a moment, the memory of her hunting on the island, and the few fractured glimpses he'd had of her cutting down men on the deck of this ship rising up in his mind. Maybe she would be alright on her own...

With a burst of speed despite his warring thoughts, he was at the doors to the cabin, pulling them open in an instant. The inside of the cabin was dim and quiet, the only sound to reach his ears was that of a single person breathing heavily. James stood still, peering into the musty shadows. Suddenly a dark figure stood up, apparently having been kneeling on the floor. For a moment every muscle in his body felt stiff, but then he discerned a female form out of the shadowy figure.

"Annalise?" he heard himself whisper hoarsely. The figure took a step forward, towards him, before pausing and turning to her right. A sickening wet sound filled the cabin and something vaguely sword-like glinted in the darkness. James stared at Annalise as she stepped into the small circle of light near the door.

Her hair was wild and tousled, a few strands plastered limply to the sides of her face. The hem of her shift was stained the dull crimson of drying blood. But it was her eyes that sent a chill through James' heart. He watched his arm move without his command, his fingertips gently touching Annalise's chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her eyes were hard and cold, raw fury seemed to swim through their depths. Her lips were drawn tightly together, thin pale lines that James' found reminded him little of her full pink lips when she was smiling.

"It was Calypso." She said suddenly, her voice low. "She set this all up." She pulled herself away from James, pushing the door of the cabin open with one hand, the other holding the jeweled Asian sword James could only assume had once belonged to the Pirate Lord. He let his eyes linger on her slight form as she stepped out of the cabin before him. She looked deadly, he though, letting his mind actually process those fractured glimpses he'd caught of her during the fight. Realization dawned upon him slowly: Annalise, the delicate dreamer, was, in fact, deadly. And he had worried for her safety? Something about this irked him, eating away at the back of his mind.

"Mistress Ching is dead." Annalise said in a voice that cut through James' reverie. He pushed the nagging feeling down into the depths of his subconscious, focusing upon Annalise's words instead. "She left me captain." She announced, her voice far harsher than James could remember hearing it before. She glared hard at the men who remained standing. "Those of you from the _Eel's Rage_," she continued, "your captain is dead as well."

She now gripped the jeweled katana tightly in her hands, pointing it at the men before. "You will address me as Captain Turner." James stared at Annalise's back in surprise. "Chang," she said suddenly, looking in the direction of a weary Chinese man, "are you… were you still Mistress Ching's first mate?" Her voice was demanding, and James suddenly found himself remembering Elizabeth's voice on that fateful night – harsh and commanding. He blinked at Annalise.

The middle-aged Chinese man nodded and bowed tightly, his fear written plainly across his features to James' eyes. "Good," Annalise continued, "I want you to captain this ship, and what is left of your crew. You will make sail for Shipwreck Cove alongside the _Eel's Rage_, which I will captain." She turned her gaze towards the disheartened-looking few left of the other crew. "You," she said, her voice softening slightly. "You will crew the _Eel's Rage_ on its voyage to Shipwreck Cove. From there we will travel to Tortuga, where you may do as you like."

James watched her turn to him, "James," her voice definitely softer now, "you'll be my first mate." For a fleeting moment he could see the young lady in her, done up in a fancy dress, delicately nibbling at a breakfast scone while smiling at him fetchingly. James blinked and she was once again replaced with the hard, cold, commanding creature that stood before a gang of pirates, stained in their blood. In a moment they were aboard the _Eel's Rage_, Annalise barking orders, the bows of both ships pointing in the direction of Shipwreck Cove.

* * *

Night fell slowly around the two ships. Open ocean surrounded them, and James found himself staring up into the billowing sails contemplatively. It was strange that the only ships he seemed to never be in command of were those of pirates, he mused. He sighed inaudibly, wondering if he could reconcile the two different people that seemed to make up Miss Annalise Turner. Was she the young lady, or was she the pirate? He shook his head. It seemed that every time he started thinking, thoughts of Annalise would weave their way in between. It was disconcerting to say the least.

He let his gaze drop from the white sails to the deck around him. Everything was still and quiet, only a hum of sound rising up above from belowdecks where the pirate crew were busy tending to their wounds, and wounded pride. Though, James supposed, perhaps falling to the daughter of the Pirate King wasn't such a shameful defeat. A ghost of a smile nearly crossed his lips as he imagined these filthy men recounting the battle in exquisitely exaggerated detail, then bragging about having survived the.. what was it he'd overheard one of the men calling her earlier? Dread pirate Anna.

The lapping of the gentle waves against the ship's hull drew James to rail of the ship. His eyes widened slightly, spotting Annalise standing at the rail of the ship, gazing out across the water. The moon illuminated the scene, its pale white light reflected a thousand times in the choppy water. He neared her quietly, admiring her despite himself. She looked wistful, her face illuminated palely in the moonlight, a general air of melancholy around her.

"It is a beautiful night, Captain Turner." He said quietly, his voice low, as he neared her.

"James," she said softly, her face betraying her surprise as she leaned up from the rail, gazing at him with that same haunted look. James leaned against the rail himself, a foot or two of space between him and Annalise. He looked out over the dark waters, his forearms resting against the railing. From the corner of his eye he saw Annalise resettle into her previous position. "It's Anna." She said softly. "Dread pirate Anna, haven't you heard?" Her voice was soft, but James could hear the bitterness in it. For a fleeting moment he was reminded of himself, during those few months he'd spent as a wreck in Tortuga, and upon Jack Sparrow's ship.

"You aren't happy being a pirate?" he replied softly, his tone noncommittal.

"Are you?" her voice cut back across to him. He turned his head to find her staring at him, anguish in her eyes. "All my life," she began, "people have told me I'm like my mother." She looked back out at the ocean. "All my life I denied that." She turned back to him, "And now it seems I'm wrong. Here I am, Captain Turner, barking orders and waving a bloody sword in the air." Her voice was ragged, her eyes dark. "I am my mother."

James looked at Annalise thoughtfully. "No," he heard himself say suddenly, pushing himself up from the rail and stepping nearer to her. He caught hold of her arm before he could stop himself, pulling her closer to him so she was forced to face him. "You are nothing like Elizabeth," he whispered hoarsely.

His head was spinning. What was he doing exactly? He could feel the warmth of Annalise's body radiating towards his, his hand wrapped around the soft skin at her wrist. She was so close, her lips partly slightly in surprise, her eyes dark and in turmoil. He forced himself to release her wrist, forced himself to step back, putting space between their bodies. "I assure you, Annalise," he began again, "you are not like your mother." For a moment he felt his gaze match Annalise's in wistfulness, "She never regretted being a pirate."

_I did._ The thought rose unbidden within him. _I still do._ He looked at Annalise, she still wore the pale shift from earlier, the hem still bloody. Her dark eyes were looking up at him, her expression unreadable. What was it about her that insisted in sticking in his mind? What was it that made him want to… want to comfort her? Standing upon the moonlit deck, with time standing still, he found himself wondering why he was fighting all this, if she truly wasn't Elizabeth.

"Doesn't that just make me a bad pirate?" She said suddenly, interrupting his chaotic thoughts.

"Only if a pirate is what you really want to be." He replied carefully, remembering her excitement at wearing a dress, her delicate manner of eating.

She turned away from him, her gaze returning to the sea. "What if that's what I'm meant to be?"

James shook his head. "We make our own fates." He said softly, fervently hoping it was true. He joined her once again at the railing, closer, so that their elbows nearly touched. "We choose our destinies."

Annalise looked up at him with dark eyes. "My father didn't." she breathed.

James thought back over the events of his former life, remembering the earnest young blacksmith. "Maybe he did," he murmured. "Maybe we all did."


	15. Wasn't it strange?

_**Something Better**_

"_We choose our destinies."_

_Annalise looked up at him with dark eyes. "My father didn't." she breathed._

_James thought back over the events of his former life, remembering the earnest young blacksmith. "Maybe he did," he murmured. "Maybe we all did."_

**Chapter 15: Wasn't it strange?**

Annalise stared out at the black ocean. James had grown silent, apparently lost in thought or memory. She sighed softly, a single whisper adding to the night breeze. "But what do I do?" she heard her voice say timidly; almost child-like it seemed to her. She felt so lost, so unsure of who she was supposed to be. It had felt so right to wear a dress, to live surrounded by beautiful things, to act like a lady, but there was something so exciting about the sea, about unfurling sails and a strong sea breeze… she felt as if she was being torn in two.

"You be yourself." James' voice was sudden in her ears, strong and sure of itself. She turned to face him, only to find his intensely green eyes focusing upon her. His features were grave; seriousness lending the clichéd words a heavier weight.

"How do I know what is myself?" she murmured hoarsely, her voice breaking slightly. Her mother had tried so very hard to make her strong, resilient and confident, but her desires were in conflict. If she let herself become the pirate, could she ever go back?

"You'll know." James replied, the look in his eyes gentle and reassuring. Looking into them, Annalise almost let turbulent emotions be soothed. He seemed so sure. Even more, he seemed to understand.

"What if they don't listen to me?" Annalise asked, gesturing towards the doors to the area below decks from which the soft hum of the pirate's voices emanated.

She watched a small smile flicker across James' lips, watched his eyes crinkle slightly in amusement. He brushed a hand across the hilt of the sword he now wore at his hip, "You need not worry about that, Captain Turner." For a moment he looked as if he had something more to say. His eyes seemed to ask her a question that had no words, before clouded over by restraint or second thoughts. "I believe I shall retire, Annalise." He said stiffly, seeming almost to begin to bow before catching himself and settling for a nod.

James had already turned around to leave when she found herself speaking again. "It's Anna." She heard herself say. "Anna, the pirate."

At this he turned around, giving her a significant look. "Would you really rather I call you that than Annalise?"

She found herself hesitating. No one called her Annalise except James. Truthfully, no one had ever seen her as being anything besides the daughter of the Pirate King. She found herself staring into James' eyes, wondering if he saw her, or just Elizabeth's daughter.

"I believe I shall take your hesitancy as a no." His voice was low, tinged with amusement. "I would like to believe that pirates cannot pass so well for ladies as you can, dear Annalise." With that he turned around once again, leaving Annalise alone with her thoughts.

She let her eyes strain into the ship's shadows long after he had left, finding herself wishing he had stayed. "Dear Annalise." he had said, sending a brief shiver up her spine. But then again, had he really meant it as anything that endearing? She sighed, her thoughts once again in a whirlwind that could centre upon nothing. Being alone was so difficult. Finally, she let her dreamy brown eyes stray back out to the ocean, choosing to focus on the one topic she should at least be able to find answers to within herself. "So," she whispered to the murmuring waves, "Who am I?"

* * *

It took the better part of three days to sail to Shipwreck Cove. It was a trying time for Annalise as she wavered between emulating her mother's style of captaining and something she supposed she could only describe as her own. There were moments when certain members of the pirate crew would look at her questioningly, their hands unconsciously reaching towards their weapons, when she hesitated in giving an order. There were moments when she could have cried, hearing her voice yelling so harsh and cruel.

Through it all James stood just behind her, watching the crew members, his own hands resting on the hilt of his sword, or reaching for his pistol (still borrowed from Annalise). She was often thankful for his presence. Without him she felt she would have feared the crew, would have been ever harsher, ever less herself. He seemed a reassuring presence, watching her with green eyes that seemed to say that he believed in her. Wasn't it strange, she found herself thinking on more than one occasion, that he didn't insist on being captain himself, that he didn't take over for her? Wasn't it strange that he believed in her after knowing her for only such a short time?

And sometimes, when the crew wasn't looking to her for orders, often at sunrise or sunset, she would watch him when he didn't know she was there. The single word he'd inserted before her name haunted her. She would find herself comparing the man to the imaginings, her eyes measuring the silhouetted man against the sum of her fairy tale dreams. Wasn't it strange, she would catch herself thinking, that he seemed more pirate than her mother had made him seem. Wasn't it strange, how he seemed to strive to mesh the two sides of his personality and his experiences to fit the situation best?

Was it really so strange she found herself feeling closer to him? Watching him from afar, half-hidden behind the mast of the ship, Annalise found herself finally realizing what it had always been about James Norrington that had attracted her imagination and her girlhood fantasies. The conflict between gentleman and pirate was the conflict between her life and the one she desired. It was almost depressing when she drew this final conclusion from the mess of thoughts in her head. It seemed that in the end, it had really always been about her and not him at all. He had been a symbol of her own conflicts, perhaps, or an imagined kindred spirit at best.

* * *

The sun took no time to gain in strength and intensity after dawn of the third day. Newly aware, Annalise stood by the wheel of the _Eel's Rage_. She held a spyglass to her eye and sighted Shipwreck Cove far in the distance and the vessel that had once belonged to Mistress Ching still following faithfully to their left. "We're nearly there." She announced softly, for James' ears only, as he stood at the wheel of the ship.

She didn't look at him as she stepped forward to address the crew. The conclusions she had drawn from the introspection she had managed over the past few days were still unsettling to her. She announced their imminent landfall even as she realized that avoidance was her mother's tactic, not hers. So it was with mixed emotions and a heavy heart that Captain Annalise Turner led the two crews under her command into the twisted halls of the pirate fortress at Shipwreck Cove.

"I say we do not yet vote." A strongly-accented voice carried down the hall to Annalise's ears. "We are still missing one Lord."

"And all the information." A strangely familiar male voice followed. Annalise strained her ears to hear better, even as she and James grew ever closer to the meeting chamber. "I was told by Calypso that a deal could be made. It is only by her leave that I can stand on shore at all." The voice held a rash urgency to it, and a powerful earnestness.

Recognition hit Annalise like a tidal wave. She turned to James, her eyes widening with surprise. "It's my father!" She exclaimed, her pace increasing until she was nearly at a run.

* * *

_(Sorry for this chapter being so short folks! I really want the next part to all be from James' POV, so I guess that means it will be extra long to make up for it! Also, thank you to everyone who has favourited this story, or put it on alert. I really love the fact that everyone likes it so much. And reviews are much loved! Thank you to everyone who leaves a review – they brighten my days!)_


	16. Realization

_**Something Better**_

_Recognition hit Annalise like a tidal wave. She turned to James, her eyes widening with surprise. "It's my father!" She exclaimed, her pace increasing until she was nearly at a run._

**Chapter 16: Realization**

James stared after Annalise for a long moment before increasing his own speed. Her voice had been filled with a mix of surprise and relief and perhaps, joy. Within an instant, her already quick steps had picked up speed, and she was now running down the twisting corridor. With a jolt, James realized that without Annalise to guide him, he was utterly lost in this pirate's maze. His steps came faster until he was only a few feet behind her once again.

Despite the fact that he was running through unknown halls, he found his gaze settling upon Annalise, her sun-faded brown hair streaming behind her like a mahogany cloud. She still wore the once-white shift she had donned so many days ago upon the island, as even a thorough search of the ships had failed to yield anything better than a few rags. The hem was still stained red with the blood of her pirate lord predecessor, and the white had transformed into a dingy grey under the stresses of life aboard the _Eel's Rage_. It was a wonder, James thought bemusedly, that Annalise questioned the crew's likelihood of taking orders from her. The fact that they not only respected her, but feared her as well, when she was wearing such a thing told James that something such as mutiny was certainly out of the question.

James was jarred from his thoughts when Annalise suddenly froze before him in the doorway of a large, dimly-lit room from which many arguing voices issued forth. She seemed to take a deep breath, as if gathering up her courage before entering the room. The familiar voice James had come to accept was, in fact ,Will Turner's, interrupted the flow of conversation within the room again and then James could only watch as Annalise flew from the doorway into the crowd. "Father!" her voice cut through the din of the bickering pirates.

He followed her into the room, rather more discreet and half-hidden by shadow, his gaze set squarely upon her. He watched her shove her way past several grubby-looking young men only to pause before her father. Will Turner looked exactly as he had the last time James had seen him. Still young and strong, his eyes still bright with his brash manner and his certain brand of stubborn determination. Will's eyes widened at the sight of Annalise before catching her up into a tight hug. It took James a moment to realize that he was grinding his teeth.

Will Turner stood with his arms wrapped about Annalise. After far longer than James could conceivably accept as proper, he stepped back to look her up and down (again, highly improper, thought James to himself). "Look at you," the by all appearances young man said suddenly, "You're all grown up!"

_He's her father._ A voice said inside James' head. A voice James could only assume was the voice of reason. _He hasn't seen his daughter in nearly nine years; it only makes sense that being reunited would be a touching moment._ Except, James thought in reply, that Annalise had herself said she barely knew her father. So what was she doing acting all thrilled to see him?

"You look so much like your mother." James found himself suppressing a grin. At least the man seemed unaware that he had compared his daughter to the mother that she strove to be so unlike. Perhaps for once he would be the one who understood, the one who comforted, the one who… James blinked. Had he not decided that he was not going to have feelings for Elizabeth's daughter?

"You're alright!" Elizabeth interrupted, a smile blossoming across her still lovely face. "I knew you would be."

"It's at least partly thanks to James," Annalise began, as James' felt what he could only helplessly assume was a blush spread across his features. "I think its thanks to him I didn't drown." she finished, smiling shyly at James while he debated if he ought to remain in the shadows or not.

His voice seemed to make the decision for him, "Well, its no thanks to your able-bodied crew." he directed sharply at Elizabeth, still appalled that she had men crewing her ship that could not do something so ridiculously simple as swim.

"Is that? No, it couldn't be." A voice piped up from behind Elizabeth and Will. A voice James found he could have gladly gone eternity without hearing again. "But that accent," the voice continued, as if conversing with itself, "that surely belongs to His Majesty's finest…" The owner of the voice wrapped two well-jewelled hands around the shoulders of first Will and then Elizabeth, directing them aside. "But it is!" The somewhat aged pirate cried with a bemused clap of his hands. "It's bloody Commodore Norrington!"

"Not Commodore, Sparrow." James heard himself say, his voice returning to the dry tones that he had addressed Jack Sparrow with in his former life. A sudden shuffle and rustle of shifting garments accompanied the cocking of pistols across the room. "No longer the scourge of piracy, either." He added uneasily, wondering just how much he had actually accomplished to be remembered so.

"Stand down." Two female voices announced firmly, mother and daughter staring at each other in mild surprise, even as Will stared dumbly, mouthing his name behind them. "James Norrington is not to be harmed." Elizabeth continued, "At this point he is just as much a pirate as any of us."

"So you came back to life, mate?" Jack Sparrow continued doggedly. James gave a dejected nod, his frown deepening as Jack's deranged smile widened, "Welcome to the club then!" He waved James towards the table where none other than a well-aged Captain Barbossa sat.

"So was you fished from the Locker, then?" Barbossa began, "Or was it Calypso? She'll keep you wrapped around her finger, I warn ye." James felt himself being shoved into an empty chair by Jack, who seemed as excited as a little girl with unexpected visitors to play tea party with.

"Touching." A gruff voice snarled from among the gathered pirates, interrupting the scene, "But it does little to change the situation. We still do not know where Mistress Ching is!"

"Mistress Ching is dead." Annalise's voice rang clearly across the room. In a fluid movement she drew the jeweled sword from the scabbard at her side. James watched her heft it slightly, shoving it into a globe that already resembled a pin cushion. "She left me as her successor." She looked firmly around the room, her features set into a look of determination that despite revealing a similar stubbornness as Elizabeth's, James found completely unique to Annalise. It seemed to him that perhaps in this moment, standing before these people she had finally found a way to be strong and determined and herself, not just an imitation of her mother's harsh demeanor.

The crowd of pirate lords nodded their heads, some slight grumbling marring the stilled silence of the room. "With so many Turners in the room it soon won't matter what the rest of us say." someone murmured in the back. Yet to James' surprise, it wasn't at that someone in the back that Elizabeth lashed out at.

"What do you mean she made you her successor?" Elizabeth's voice rang harshly through the room. "You're still a child!"

For a moment, Annalise stood dumbstruck before her mother. "I'm nineteen!" She said suddenly, "Or did you forget my birthday, again?" She stood now with flashing eyes and a certain tenseness about her form. "I am captain of a ship now! Two in fact!"

"Commodore!" Jack Sparrow's voice interrupted, one hand raised delicately while his eyes danced with amusement. "That would make you Commodore, dear Anna-belle!" He turned to James, "Shame on you for not telling her so, Norrington."

"But you're so young to be a captain," Will's voice now said, seemingly having recovered from Norrington's surprising re-emergence into the world of the living. Though James found himself questioning why exactly Will hadn't known about it in the first place, after all, he was the next Davy Jones, shouldn't he be keeping better tabs on the living and the dead? "Too young, really," he continued, "It's a responsibity you don't need right now, and its dangerous."

"And growing up on Mother's ship wasn't?" Annalise exclaimed.

"Don't you dare start on this topic!" Elizabeth interrupted again, her face a mask of stubborn anger.

Annalise turned to her father. "Do you have any idea what growing up with her as a mother was like?" She pointed accusingly at Elizabeth. "We never spent more than a week on land at any given point! I haven't worn a dress in years!" Will's eyes understandably dipped to the shift she wore now. "I've grown up surrounded by pirates! I hadn't met a decent man until James!"

James sat silently, desperately unwilling to be drawn into this three-way screaming match, as Will and Elizabeth both began yelling back at Annalise. He let his head sink onto one hand, willing the family confrontation to end, at least partly because Elizabeth's voice was giving him, and quite possibly every other living being in the room, a headache.

"Captain Turner?" A timid voice suddenly interrupted from the doorway. James raised his head to look at a boy, barely fifteen from the looks of it. In an instant he recognized him as the cabin boy off the _Eel's Rage._ James nodded his head in sympathy as the full wrath of three-quarters of the Turner family came down upon the young man.

"What?" All three Captain Turners cried, turning to stare the boy in the face, anger seeping from their very auras.

"I… I meant… the pirate…" The boy stuttered and stumbled over his words. "The dread pirate Anna!" He exclaimed suddenly, his face reddening.

"What is it, Matthew?" Annalise barked at the boy, concern slowly replacing the rage in her voice.

"The… the… Asian ship. They're sailing away." The young man looked at his captain in confusion, "I thought you should know."

James watched as Annalise's features softened. "That's alright, Matthew." She said, her voice softer now. "I told Chang that he and the rest of their crew could make sail for China. Their ship needs a lot of repairs." Her brow furrowed. "I did hope he'd wait until the council had made their decision though, I don't want to think what sort of storms Calypso may whip up around here if the choice doesn't go her way."

James let his gaze flick back to Elizabeth and Will, who stood still and dumbfounded. "Dread pirate Anna?" Will murmured softly, running his hand through his hair. He turned to look at Elizabeth, "Just how did you raise our children?"

Elizabeth seemed to ignore her husband, instead staring at her daughter, who appeared to be giving Matthew some instructions to relay to crew of the _Eel's Rage_ regarding weather-proofing the ship just in case. Annalise turned back to her mother, "You were saying?" She prompted, her voice calm.

"They respect you," Elizabeth said finally, "Without you having to be tough and harsh?" Her expression was one of confusion and surprise.

Annalise stared back at her mother, shock evident on her features. "I…" she struggled for words, glancing suddenly at James as if begging for help or support. For an instant James met her gaze, letting his confidence in her flow unspoken between them. "Yes." Annalise said, her eyes still on James, and her voice sounding faraway. She turned to face her mother. "Yes, they do." Her voice was firm and sure, but still soft, dreamy. It was her own.


	17. For Freedom

_**Something Better**_

_For an instant James met her gaze, letting his confidence in her flow unspoken between them. "Yes." Annalise said, her eyes still on James, and her voice sounding faraway. She turned to face her mother. "Yes, they do." Her voice was firm and sure, but still soft, dreamy. It was her own._

**Chapter 17: For Freedom**

Annalise felt a strange new power flow through her. She looked her mother straight in the eyes as she stepped lightly past, seating herself in the chair that had once belonged to Mistress Ching. She settled into the chair with a certain grace, surveying the Pirate Lords who surrounded her. They looked bored. She sat back, her hands folded neatly before her on the table. She let her gaze meet James' twinkling eyes across the table, and found herself suppressing a smile. She let her eyes slide along the table to stare at her mother.

"So, in the best interests of time," began Jack, "Don't you think, Lizzie, that we had best get this little meeting afoot?" His voice was slightly teasing, but suggested that there was a finality about who now sat at the table, one even the Pirate King would do better not to question.

Annalise found herself almost enjoying seeing her mother flustered. Elizabeth had always been a mask, and here she was staring hopelessly between her husband, her rebellious daughter, and her once-dead fiancé. All in all, Annalise found herself thinking mischeviously, I've done well.

"Well then," Annalise heard her mother say finally, a deep breath punctuating the silence before Elizabeth resumed, her voice holding only a fraction of its usual haughty and demanding tone. "We all know why we are here." Her voice began to pick up some of its usual confidence as she plunged forward. "Calypso has proven herself a treacherous and complicated foe. Perhaps releasing her was a decision made in haste, one that should, in fact, be reversed."

Annalise found herself smiling slightly as the fact that Barbossa was shaking his head. Her new-found confidence would need to be put to use in another moment or two, and seeing that she had even one supporter was a relief.

"We have nine Pirate Lords. We have the spell needed to bind her. All we need is an accord." The dull roar of voices filled the room. "And I say we bind her!" Elizabeth's voice rang out, passionate and ragged, exactly how Annalise had always known it.

Annalise stood slowly, taking a deep breath. She cleared her throat softly, "I say we don't." Her voice wasn't harsh. It wasn't even particularly loud. But it stilled the voices of the pirates around her. All eyes fell upon the Pirate King and her daughter. "There are too many reasons not to." She continued, her voice calm and collected.

"What on earth do you mean?" Elizabeth started. "Calypso is dangerous…"

"She'll free father from his service aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ if we leave her be." Annalise replied simply. "She will never be tamed, that much is true, but deals can be made with her, bargains struck."

"Deals and bargains do not stick to the goddess of the seas!" An African Lord cried from across the room.

Annalise turned to the dark-skinned man. "Perhaps we simply haven't been listening to her terms."

"Her terms are too high!" The nasal voice of the French Lord cut in.

Annalise faced the new speaker. "Perhaps we are asking too much."

"Is safety too much to ask for?" her mother's voice spat across the room.

Annalise glanced towards her mother. For a long moment she held her mother's gaze. She turned to look around the room, gazing at the weathered faces of the Pirate Lords before her, some old or even ancient, other's younger, though none as young as her own. They were the faces of those who knew and loved the sea. Those who lived their lives… Annalise paused in her thoughts and opened her mouth instead.

"I look before me," she began, "And I see the faces of those who have loved the sea with the width and breadth of their souls. We are those who have lived our lives upon the wooden decks of ships, those who know the rocking of the sea better than the solid earth of the land." Her voice was strong, but held the promise, the wistfulness that spoke of daydreams.

"I look before me and I see free men and women. I see those who are not afraid, those who are willing to risk the ends of the earth for that which they consider worthwhile. I see those who have given up happiness, surrendered joy, lost their pride, or even their life, for something greater than themselves." She found herself looking around the room, addressing all those assembled before her one by one.

"Who among you can honestly say you can fall asleep without the dull roar of the ocean in your ears? Who amongst you doesn't dream of the ocean, and the horizon line you can only get to by sailing across her? Who among you doesn't find themselves only truly alive in the face of a great storm, the challenge of waves taller than the masts of your ship?" She spoke from her heart, letting the words flow from her. For if there was one thing she could understand, it was dreams. All the wonder and awe that had ever made her love the ocean, despite her aversion to pirating, was mirrored in these scallywags before her and damned if she wasn't going to make them see that.

"So," she said suddenly, "Who among you really wants anything safe?" The room was filled with silence. A sudden roar filled the room as every man and woman began to cheer, toasting their brethren, giving great cries of glee. "To the sea!" Captain Barbossa cried with a chuckle, "May she ever be free."

Annalise turned her gaze triumphantly to her mother and father. "And you'll be free, father." She said softly. "You can be together, like you always wanted to be."

A look of hesitation crossed her parent's faces. "But," Will's voice stilled the room. "But it isn't fair to ask people to unnecessarily risk their lives just so I can be free." He looked at Annalise, "I understand that you want your mother and I to be happy, but tricking people into believing they want or even choose death, just for the sake of adventure..." He trailed off, his eyes staring so intently at Annalise that they crinkled around the edges.

Annalise stared at her parents as the room once again subsided into silence. She stared at them long and hard, from her mother's beautiful but tired face to her father's tired eyes, from the worn breeches of her mother, to the bandana her father wore tied around his head. They both had a certain edge to them, a harshness that spoke of battles and sacrifice, of too much sunlight and too much rum. She let a strangled cry escape her lips, "But you're pirates!" She cried suddenly. "You're _allowed_ to be selfish sometimes!"

Annalise felt her eyes flashing with anger, and was suddenly thankful that she'd left her sword in the pin-cushion of a globe. "Don't give me your stupid, pathetic lectures and speeches on self-sacrifice and the greater good. We. Are. Pirates." She stared around the room, "We aren't cowardly. We aren't timid. And we do, in fact, live for adventure." She let her voice raise, struggling to keep the harshness of her mother's voice out of her own. "We do, in fact, want nothing more than that horizon!" She gestured madly across the room.

"So don't tell me what you should or shouldn't do. Tell me what you can do!" She gazed at her parents, willing them to listen, even as her heart throbbed with the sudden realization that if her mother didn't cave… her gaze redirected itself to James.

He was staring at her, his intensely green eyes watching her every move. He looked almost as if he were hanging on her every word. As if he almost knew that his life was resting upon this decision, even though, of course, he could not know at all. She swallowed suddenly, her mouth dry. He nodded at her, a slight gesture, but with his eyes he spoke volumes. She turned her head back to her parents, suddenly knowing what she had to say.

"Captain Sparrow," she said softly, without turning her gaze, "What is a ship?"

"A ship, dear Anna-belle," Jack's voice rose from his side of the table, a wistful tone to his voice, "Is freedom."

"And Captain Barbossa," she whispered, "What is it that lets you decide your own fate?"

"Aye. It be freedom, missy." He replied, his tired voice rough with amusement.

"And all of you of the Brethren Court," Annalise continued, "Why is it that we are pirates?"

"For rum!" A chorus of voices cried. Annalise froze for a moment, disbelief falling across her features.

"Why else are we pirates?" She asked, her voice tinged with desperation but still somewhat hopeful.

"For freedom!" The chorus cried. Annalise smiled, relief in her eyes.

"And mother," she said finally, "Why is it you chose to marry a blacksmith? Why is it you gave up the privileged life of a Governor's daughter to live your life, to raise your children, upon a ship, stopping in dirty and dangerous ports?"

Annalise felt her voice catch in her throat. The look on her mother's face was one she hadn't seen since she was a child, listening to bedtime stories. Her mother looked vulnerable, younger, hopeful and wistful. Annalise suddenly found herself wondering if her mother was really as different from her as she had always thought…

"For freedom." Elizabeth whispered.

Annalise swallowed. "So then why would we take away Calypso's freedom? What right do we have to deprive her of the one thing we all want so badly?" Her eyes felt wet, she was begging, in the only way she could, to save a life, to save her father, to save the wild oceans she loved more than any of her dreams of a privileged life.

"We wouldn't." a dry voice interjected. Annalise felt every head in the room turn along with hers to stare at James. He wore a slight smile, part chagrin at lumping himself in willingly with pirates, part something else that seemed, to Annalise at least, to be directed only at her.


	18. To Understand

_**Something Better**_

_Hey everyone! Sorry its taken me so long to update, I simply haven't had time/ my muse died for a little while. I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter, and I'm really hoping that Will isn't too out of character…_

"_We wouldn't." a dry voice interjected. Annalise felt every head in the room turn along with hers to stare at James. He wore a slight smile, part chagrin at lumping himself in willingly with pirates, part something else that seemed, to Annalise at least, to be directed only at her._

**Chapter 18: To Understand**

James held Annalise's gaze for a long moment before redirecting it upon Elizabeth. He knew all the eyes in the room were on him, and it took every ounce of his naval training to keep him from squirming with his discomfort. But now was not the moment to focus upon such things. Annalise had won the room, there was no denying this fact. The final outcome still rested on Elizabeth, however, and James knew full well how stubborn she could be.

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, her brown eyes boring into his own. "All for rebinding Calypso." she murmured softly, her eyes betraying no surprise at the silent room. "All for leaving her free?"

The room erupted into a storm of "ayes" and cheers and great toasts of rum to the sea, to freedom, to Calypso, and to Annalise. James let his gaze wander back to Annalise, who looked quite flushed at the last toast. Flushed and victorious, her eyes bright with joy and surprise and confidence at the outcome she had procured. The whole room was standing now, mixing and mingling in merriment and half-disguised threats. Annalise's eyes met his, and a smile blossomed across her lips. It took James a moment to realize that he was smiling broadly back.

"James?" A voice said softly beside him. James tore his gaze from Annalise to find Elizabeth looking at him, a small smile softening her lips as she looked between her daughter and himself. "You should probably get her out of here," Elizabeth began, only a trace of an order in her statement, "It's likely to get rather rowdy in the next while."

James found himself somewhat at loss. He looked between Elizabeth and Annalise, who had now turned to speak with some pirate lord or another. "I…" he began softly, his mouth going dry. Just what exactly was Elizabeth implying, with her knowing smile? Just what was _he_ thinking?

"If there's anyone in the world I would trust my daughter with, James," Elizabeth began, amusement crinkling the fine wrinkles that were beginning to form at the corners of her eyes, "It is you."

James opened his mouth, a protest upon his tongue. He had no intentions of courting Annalise, he had promised himself not to fall in love again, he meant only to be a friend… but the words died on his lips. Annalise was walking towards them, gently pushing a stray tress of her soft brown hair behind an ear. Her eyes sparkled at him, thanking him for his support without ever using words. James closed his mouth slowly, glancing hopelessly at Elizabeth, who looked about ready to laugh at him.

It was with a certain sense of drowning that he turned back to Annalise and extended an arm to her. Leading her out of the room, he found he could think of little else beyond the pressure of her hand upon his arm. The curious soft brushings of her shift or her hair against him was doing strange things to him, causing words to die upon his lips, even as a somewhat hopeless smile replaced them.

It was almost with relief that he found them standing by the shoreline rather than within twisted corridors. He let his eyes linger upon the distant horizon. The sun was rising; apparently the meeting and its following festivities had run right through the night. The sky was stained a soft pink, the water reflecting the light as tiny sparkles that danced before his eyes.

"I suppose now your family will finally be together." He heard himself say suddenly, even as the thought itself sank in with an odd bitterness. Even in the course of a week he had gotten used to being with Annalise, even as her second-in-command.

"For special occasions, perhaps."

James turned to stare at Annalise in shock. "Pardon?" He said softly, reflexively, disbelieving his own ears.

"I have my own ship now." She replied, a wry smile upon her lips. "A captain can't simply abandon their ship." An indignant look crossed her features. "And I don't think I could stand to see any ship in the hands of one of my ship's current crew."

Pink light illuminated Annalise's face, giving her face a very soft look. _Touchable_, was the word that rose unbidden to James' mind. He shook his head slightly, pretending to simply be amused by the possessiveness of the _Eel's Rage_ that Annalise had already come to have, rather than utterly distracted by desires to touch her skin, or kiss those soft lips…

She very suddenly turned to face out upon the ocean. "I suppose," she began in a very soft voice, "That you'll be going with mother?"

James stared at Annalise in astonishment. "Why on earth would I do that?" He gasped before he could stop himself.

"Well, you did love her once…" She began tentatively, her voice wavering slightly, as if she were becoming tired. Or perhaps, James found himself musing, as if she suddenly found the idea less than pleasing.

"Once." He heard himself reply, his voice a little thick, as if his throat were constricting. For whatever love he had once had for Elizabeth was surely gone now. If it weren't, there was no way he could be so drawn to Annalise, was there? He found himself staring searchingly at Annalise, as if her profile, tinged with pink, could provide him with the answers he needed. A slight breeze sent a few strands of her hair blowing into her face, and he saw his hand rise up of its own accord to tuck them gently behind an ear. An flame ran through him as the answer hit him as he prolonged the contact of his fingertips against Annalise's skin. _I'm in love with you._ The thought rattled him to his core.

Hurriedly he pulled his hand back from her. He turned to face the ocean himself, a lump rising in his throat. "I fear it would be far too awkward for me to be onboard a ship with both your mother and your father." He paused, just a hint of sarcasm lifting into his tone, "Particularily after such extended absences between the two of them."

A soft laugh escaped the young woman beside him. A heavy silence sank between the two. "So then, Mr. Norrington," Annalise finally, "I take it then that you are looking for a crew to join?"

"Actually Captain Turner," the corner of his lips twitched upwards, "I believe I am already first mate upon a fine vessel."

"Is that so?" came a playful reply.

"It is so. She sails under one of the finest captains I've ever known."

"Really?" Annalise's voice held amused skeptism.

"Truly." James replied, "She gained the respect and loyalty of one of the nastiest crews to sail out of Tortuga dressed in only a shift, charmed an entire room full of rum-soaked pirates, and even convinced the Pirate King to see things her way."

"Well, when you put it like that." Her smile could light up the darkest corners of the night, James decided. She should always be smiling, as far as he was concerned.

A soft cough interrupted the moment. James looked behind him to see none other than Will Turner. "Commodore?" Will began, suddenly blinking, "I mean…"

"James?" Annalise supplied for her father, her eyes bright with curiousity.

"Yes, James. Thank you, Anna." Will replied, somewhat flustered, a strange sight to James' eyes. "I wished to speak with you." He said, directing the awkward statement towards James.

"I'll be at the ship." Annalise said softly, addressing both James and Will. She smiled at James and slipped away in the growing light of morning.

James let his gaze follow after her. It was only after a long moment that he realized that Will was observing him, somewhat awkwardly, as he stared at his daughter. "Right." He said suddenly, snapping his attention to Will, "You were saying?"

It was a decidedly awkward moment.

The power had shifted so drastically, the situation changed so ridiculously, that the question of who should be deferring to who was almost irrelevant. "I barely know Anna." Will said suddenly. "To be honest, if you have in fact spent the entire last week with her, you probably know her better than I do. I've spent a wonderfully grand total of one day with her, and somehow the only thing that really struck me about her was that I couldn't believe a daughter of Elizabeth's could be so happy to wear a dress."

James nodded, unsure of what to say to such a thing.

"I guess my point here is that despite the fact that I didn't get to spend time with my children the way I always had hoped I could, they are still my children." He looked at James with a wry smile, "Believe me, the fact that my son looks older than I do is not wasted upon me." His smile went a little bitter. "But Anna is still my daughter." The space around the two men grew decidedly silent once again.

"I'm not certain I trust you, Commodore." Will said finally.

"James." James replied automatically.

Will shook his head in some frustration. "I'm extremely grateful to you for freeing Elizabeth that night upon the _Flying Dutchmen_. Elizabeth has always said you gave your life for her and her crew that night."

"I did." James said softly, his voice dry.

"But it does not change the fact that you betrayed us before. If you had not in fact taken the heart, that situation would never have played out as it did."

"Perhaps not." James said suddenly, his voice suddenly rising up within him. "But I like to think I have learned to be a better man since then. It was a decidedly low point in my life, and I assure you there was not a moment I did not suffer from the guilt of my actions."

Will remained silent. His eyes following the shoreline to where the _Eel's Rage_ sat docked, a few figures walking about upon the deck, indistinguishable in the distance. "I would prefer that Annalise be sailing with Elizabeth and I," he said softly, "It would have been nice to be a family, at least for a little while. But it seems that, like her mother, she has her own plans."

"She's not Elizabeth." James heard himself say suddenly. He found Will suddenly staring at him. "Sorry, that's obvious." He recovered, "What I meant to say, was that she is not as like Elizabeth as you seem to believe. They share certain traits, but Annalise is someone else entirely."

"Annalise?" Will repeated softly. "Why don't you call her Anna?"

"She prefers to be called Annalise." James said simply. "When I met her she corrected everyone who called her Anna."

The look upon Will Turner's face would stick with James all his life. Perhaps Turner had known Elizabeth far better than James ever could. Perhaps he had understood her and connected with her on levels James could only imagine. But that one look, that one incredulous look, was all James needed to know that he, James Norrington, was the one who knew and understood Annalise.


	19. Into The Fog

_**Something Better**_

_Hey everyone! Here's another apology for taking __**so**__ long to update… I've been in field classes all month so my time to write was slightly limited. I promise updates will get more regular again!_

_The look upon Will Turner's face would stick with James all his life. Perhaps Turner had known Elizabeth far better than James ever could. Perhaps he had understood her and connected with her on levels James could only imagine. But that one look, that one incredulous look, was all James needed to know that he, James Norrington, was the one who knew and understood Annalise. _

**Chapter 19: Into The Fog**

Captain Turner, or Annalise, as she preferred, was standing near the railing of her ship as it sped through the blue waters of the Carribean. Newly christened the _Gull's Wing_, the ship was sailing out of Tortuga, with enough provisions in the hold for a few weeks, and wind in her sails. Annalise smiled, opening her lips to speak without turning her head.

"Mr. Norrington," She began, the smile flitting playfully upon her lips as she addressed the helmsman. "Are we making good time?"

There was a silent pause, during which Annalise had to fight herself not to turn around to look at James. "Well, Captain," his smooth voice replied, "We would be if you had given me a heading."

Annalise twirled around in surprise. "What are you talking about? I did so give you…" the rush of frantic words died on her lips as she watched James struggle not to laugh at her. Her expression hardened for a moment, "That is just disrespectful." She managed to grumble out before her face softened again. Seeing James smile was quite enough to make her forget even the idea of being angry with him.

The past few weeks on Tortuga, she had discovered a side to James that had never been present in her mother's stories. A laughing, happy side, one that smiled at her and teased her playfully. A James that when sitting beside her in the small pub she usually frequented for her favourite white wines (a place James found both amusing and extremely pleasant), would on occasion, absently play with a few strands of her hair. She smiled inwardly at the memories, he never did really seem to realize he was doing it.

"Is it so bad for me to want to see your pretty face?" James said softly, before his eyes widened in shock at being so bold.

Annalise smiled even more broadly and stepped daintly past him, on her way to the main deck. She paused by his side, so close she was certain he could feel the warmth of her body near him. "I half expect it." She replied cheekily, leaving a bewildered James Norrington at the helm of her ship.

* * *

Things went smoothly for the first week of their voyage. Annalise found herself constantly flirting with James, enamored with the fact that she could make him blush; purely addicted to the sight of his smile. When she was even just talking with him, the rest of the world seemed alright. She didn't need to worry about how she would fund the next voyage, or how she would buy new supplies when the current things ran out. She didn't need to worry about the crew, or about how the rest of her family was getting along. These things would simply work out on their own, at least so long as she could still be near James.

It was a gloomy evening that things unraveled. Clouds had poured in thickly from the west, casting shadows despite it being only early evening. Annalise found herself staring uncertainly into the growing storm, not for fear of the elements, but because they were running low on supplies, and she'd spent every last thing she'd had to re-outfit the _Gull's Wing_. She was debating what would be worse, trying to explain to James that at some point they'd have to resort to piracy after all, or to put into a port and attempt to find an honest shipping job with a merchant, surrendering some of their freedom and possibly causing the crew to rethink their choice of captain.

All these questions were pushed aside, however, as Annalise spotted a ship approaching them slowly from the direction of the black cloud bank. She stared at the ship hard, her voice dead in her throat. She felt James step up next to her to pull out a spyglass. "Here," she choked out, her tongue leaden in her mouth by a sudden sense of apprehension. Putting the spyglass to her eye she could make out the name of the ship that was so similar in appearance to her father's _Flying Dutchman_.

"It's the _Dutchman_." She murmured softly, without turning her head to face James.

He was silent for a long moment, "Why should that concern us?" His voice sounded firm and curious.

"I'm not entirely certain," Annalise admitted. "But it's no longer my father who's captain, and I have a bad feeling about it." It sounded childish to her, a bad feeling, but there was no denying the sense of foreboding growing stronger in her as the supernatural ship approached them.

A cry rang out among the crew, frantic and scared. "Can you calm them?" She asked, turning to James finally. He nodded to her and went without a word among the crew, berating them verbally for being afraid when there was clearly nothing to fear. Annalsie was certain she was the only one who could sense the uncertainty in James' manner. Somehow in her single imploring glance she'd managed to convert his sentiments over to her own. She lifted the spyglass once again and peered over at the ship that was rapidly speeding towards them, her stomach twisting despite itself.

* * *

The _Flying Dutchman _had pulled up alongside her ship, and Annalise found herself attempting to bury her uncertainty as she stood upon the deck of her ship, James at her side. She swallowed hard as a tall figure she vaguely remembered from her father's crew appeared upon her deck.

"Captain Turner," The figure said, nodding differentially, "I am glad to see you are well, you probably do not remember me, but I know a great many tales of you through your father. He was always so proud of you."

Annalise nodded her head uncertainly. The man was obviously attempting to prepare her for some terrible piece of news. "What brings you here, to my ship?" She heard her voice suddenly demand.

The tall man sighed, "It seems, Miss Turner," the man winced, "Captain Turner." He took a deep breath. "One of your crewmen belongs in a rather different realm than this."

Annalise suddenly felt very sick, just as James' stiffened at her side. "Just what do you mean exactly?" Her voice sounded rather like her mother's.

"One James Norrington, I believe he is standing by your side." The man paused. "I must take him back to the realm of the dead. It is where he belongs."

The entire crew very suddenly took a step back from Annalise and James, a collective gasp rising up among them. "But 'e don't look dead!" A voice exclaimed form the crowd.

Annalise stood frozen. "You're right." She turned her head to stare at James. "I don't exactly know why I was brought back to life, it is entirely possible that it was a mistake. In any case, it is entirely unnatural." His voice was steady, calm, and collected. It was almost as if he'd been expecting something like this to happen. She felt dead herself, heavy and voice-less, as he stepped forward to go with this other man. Did he want to leave her?

"No!" She heard her voice exclaim, suddenly breaking free of the numbness that filled her body. "This isn't right!" She stepped up to this man that would take James from her, rapidly outpacing James. "I had a deal with Calypso. This isn't a part of it!" Her eyes flashed with anger. "There was a deal. I kept my end of it! Now she should have to keep her's!"

The man looked at her with sad eyes. "It is not my call who can stay or go; I must merely take all the dead souls across. Just as your father did."

Annalise ground her teeth. "No! You're not understanding me here. There was a deal. Calypso stays free, James stays. That's the deal!"

"What deal?" A dazed voice said behind her, sending a horrible chill up Annalise's spine. "Annalise, what deal?" There was a certain hopelessness in James' voice that made Annalise want to slap herself for not explaining all this to him sooner.

"Listen, he can't go! Just… ask Calypso!" Her voice was running ragged as the man stood firmly, a tiny sympathetic smile upon his thin lips.

"I cannot make deals with the goddess." He said finally. "This is something you will have to take up with her yourself. I am merely the ferryman."

"Annalise." She turned around to face James.

"I'm so sorry." She found herself exclaiming, her eyes watering, blurring his honest face. "I should have explained everything when I had the chance."

"Explain what?" He pressed, taking the few steps to stand directly before her. His green eyes stared directly into hers with an intensity that simply sent Annalise into tears.

"We must go." The tall man said, his gaze cutting over Annalise's form to James. Annalise felt James' eyes resting heavily upon her for one last heavy moment before he moved past her, standing near the ferryman.

"James!" She exclaimed suddenly, whirling around, her eyes wide as one possessed. She locked her gaze with his. "I will make this right." She said suddenly. "I promise."

And then all was lost in a thick grey fog.


	20. Crew

_**Something Better**_

_Or… maybe updates won't be as frequent as I had hoped. But they will happen! Stay tuned! Cookies for all who are still keeping up with this story!_

"_James!" She exclaimed suddenly, whirling around, her eyes wide as one possessed. She locked her gaze with his. "I will make this right." She said suddenly. "I promise."_

_And then all was lost in a thick grey fog._

**Chapter 20: Crew **

James stood on board the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_, more than a little dazed. In an instant everything had changed again. Oddly enough, it wasn't the thought of his death having to be faced again that was on his mind, but Annalise.

The sky was grey and thick fog filled the air and covered the deck of the old ship. James stood alone, and though he could make out the forms of man working upon the deck around him, they seemed ethereal in the fog, and made no move to interact with him. James turned his gaze out upon the shrouded horizon. He wasn't entirely sure what to feel. Obviously Annalise had betrayed him on some level, she had known all along the reason behind his return to life. _She_ had been the reason for his return to life. James shook his head hopelessly. He should be angry, he thought to himself, angry or irked or at least chagrined by the fact that he had lived merely on the whim of a young woman.

It was strange then, that he wasn't. That he felt none of the things he should have felt. Instead he saw Annalise's eyes in that last moment. Her eyes wide with fear and guilt and something he didn't dare to name. It was an expression that he had seen once before, and only once before. It was the same look that he had seen in Elizabeth's eyes all those years ago, when she would have done or said anything to save Turner's life. The look that had accompanied her acceptance of his proposal, though the desperate love that had been evident in her eyes had not been directed at him.

The look Annalise had given him though… the desperate… no. James turned away from the sea; he could not name it. He wouldn't even think it. He was dead again, or very near to it. Whatever small emotions he had allowed to grow inside his heart in the past few weeks had to be contained, tucked away so they could hurt him no more.

"Young Miss Turner seems rather determined to get you back." A voice interrupted suddenly. James lifted his gaze to see the man who had revealed himself as captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ onboard Annalise's ship walking towards him. As he neared James could see that the man was fairly young. His face was clean-shaven and his eyes revealed one who was open and honest by nature. "The thing is," the man began, "I can't not do my job. Captain Turner taught every man who came on board this ship just how important this duty is. He was fair though, and he liked to think that every man could also be."

James found himself staring the man in the eyes. "What is your point exactly?" He heard himself asking. For a moment his tired tone shocked him. Bitter defeat flavoured his words.

The captain shook his head slowly. "The thing I noticed first about Will Turner and his wife," the man said, his voice a little gruff, "was that the two of them never gave up. Both as stubborn as mules, if not more so." The man turned his gaze out towards the misty sea swells. "If I could only have loved for a moment as strongly as those two have loved all their lives…" He looked back at James. "Do you really think their only daughter would be so different?"

James stared at the man in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. The captain smiled and winked warily, "I'll let you think on it for awhile, and then I'll have a proposition for you." The captain moved off silently into the fog, blending in with the other grey fogged-in forms that comprised his crew.

The better part of the day passed with James lost in thought, just as the ship seemed lost in fog. He rather wished that he could come to any conclusion on his emotions; that he could classify what he felt. At least if he knew that he could plot some sort of course to follow, and then could tuck the whole thing away neatly like a nautical map of his soul. But instead he swam through a sea of conflict. There was no denying the fact that he had feelings for Annalise, but whether he could simply put faith in her, particularly knowing now that she had in some ways betrayed his trust, was another matter entirely.

The captain stepped up lightly behind him, clearing his throat as if to let James know he was there. "Well Mr. Norrington," he began, his voice firm but his tone warm, "Are you willing to consider my proposition?"

"You want me to be part of the crew of the _Flying Dutchman_." James said dryly. "I'm not entirely certain the prospect sounds so appetizing to me."

To James' surprise, the captain just laughed. "And what bit of it is so unappetizing to you?" He replied. "The bit where you become a part of the ship and a sea monster? Because I can assure you that won't be happening under my watch. Or the bit where its for a hundred years? Cause that's where my proposition steps in for you."

James found himself looking at the young captain curiously. "What do you mean by that exactly?"

The younger man smiled. "You can call me a romantic," he began, casting an arm around James' shoulders and walking along the deck, "But I prefer to think of myself as a shrewd business man. As you can see, Captain Turner before me was rather lenient in letting folks go on their way; he didn't much like to keep them bound to the ship. As a result, there certainly are not enough men onboard to properly crew this beauty."

James found himself casting his eyes doubtfully around the ship's deck, but sure enough, there appeared to only be the bare minimum number of men about needed to crew the ship. "I'm sorely in need of crewmembers." The captain said bluntly," So I've come into the habit of cutting deals. You stay on as crew just until our young Miss Turner comes dashing in with your freedom, and you're free to go. You won't age a day, so long as you're crew, and you won't be sent onwards beyond hope of ever seeing Miss Turner again." A clever gleam shone in the captain's eyes.

"And if I still say no?" James inquired, already knowing that he was going to accept this deal, despite the suspicious gleam in the captain's eyes.

"Then we have to let you get back to being dead." The captain replied simply.

James' sighed softly and raised his hand. It felt oddly heavy as the captain seized hold of it. "We have an accord then!" The captain said triumphantly. "Welcome to the crew of the _Flying Dutchman_!"

James paused for a moment, a quiet sense of dread suddenly filling him. "And what if Annalise doesn't come after me?"

The captain shrugged lazily. "Guess you would just be crew forever. But I wouldn't worry on that too much."

James realized then, in an instant, that his choice had been made for him. He would have to put his faith in Annalise. He could only hope that she would not forget her promise, or perhaps more importantly, him.


	21. Misunderstandings of Youth

_**Something Better**_

_James realized then, in an instant, that his choice had been made for him. He would have to put his faith in Annalise. He could only hope that she would not forget her promise, or perhaps more importantly, him._

Chapter 21: Misunderstandings of Youth

The small boat was headed directly into port, its tattered once-white sails pulled taunt in the wind. It was a tiny vessel, no more than a dingy outfitted with a sail, but in it's captain's mind, it had served its purpose. The captain, a woman with sun-bleached chestnut hair that streamed behind her in the wind stood firmly by the small mast of the vessel, staring intently at her target port.

Tortuga. It seethed with the filth and greed of generations of pirates. But Annalise Turner was no ordinary pirate, and the temptations of Tortuga held no sway over her. Unlike their effect upon others."Hey miss, what's a sweet thing like you doing all alone in a place like this?" One scruffy pirate dared to ask, alcohol blurring his vision so he saw a young woman rather than the battle-hardened Bloody Anna Turner.

"Sweet is a relative term." The young woman hissed, a dagger appearing against the man's throat. "But I think you still want to buy me a drink, don't you?" She smiled sweetly up at the drunken confusion written across the man's face. "Your change purse?" She suggested softly, the dagger in her hand pressing every so gently into the man's throat. Moments later she had melted back into the crowd of drunken revelers, a surprisingly heavy change purse secreted upon her person, and a stunned man left speechless behind.

Annalise pushed open the doors of the dirty town's vilest, more dangerous tavern, a look of business set upon her features. She strolled across the rowdy room, stepping daintily around table-sized fist fights and flying swords and flashing daggers. She had no time to deal with men like this. She stepped straight up to the bar, and pulled several gold pieces from the stolen purse to slide across to the tired-looking bar tender.

"I need information." She said simply, her finger tips still resting upon the gold, allowing just enough to sparkle through to entice the bar tender.

"Don't we all." The older man replied, a disinterested look in his eyes.

Annalise let a soft whistle of air escape her lips in frustration. She pulled a few more coins from the purse and added them to the small pile before the bar tender. "Last time you sent me on a wild goose chase, Theo. I want real answers this time."

"Well Miss, I'll square with you. I don't know where Sparrow is." Theo whipped the towel off his shoulder and placed it on the counter before Annalise. "And frankly Miss Turner, this act is getting old. If'n your parents don't know where Sparrow is, then no one is going to know. Ev'ryone knows that you don't find Captain Jack Sparrow, the devil finds you."

Annalise leaned back, frustration written upon her face. The bar tender softened his gaze slightly. "Listen girl, it's been nearly three years you been chasing around the Carribbean, downsizing your crew, downsizing your ship, wreaking havoc on those French privateers. Don't you think its time you stop chasing whatever ghost it be you're after?" The bar tender stared at her with a gaze of mild compassion. "I knew ye when you was five years old – you weren't never meant to be a pirate. So what is it you're after?"

Annalise sighed softly. "Sometimes pursuing the right course demands an act of piracy."

"What's that?"

"Nothing." Annalise replied wearily. "Just something my grandfather said once, according to my mother's stories." She rose from her stool. "Thanks Theo." She said softly. "Maybe I should just give this up. It is entirely possible Uncle Jack never made it back from the Fountain of Youth anyway. It's all just a myth, and he was rather old to go chasing myths." She sighed, the dirty coin purse held lightly in her calloused fingers. "You're completely right. This life isn't for me at all. Stealing…" she shook her head slightly, "James would never approve, even if it was for his sake."

* * *

Annalise found herself trudging along a sandy beach in the moonlight. She sighed audibly. Three years of planning and plotting had brought her no closer to figuring out how to save James. And how was she to know? By this time he might even be happy to be dead, happy to be far away from her. Her hand brushed the rough canvas of her pants. It was a far cry from the silk skirts she still dreamed of. There just wasn't room in reality for her dreams anymore.

Suddenly, Annalise collapsed into the sand, sobs choking her, filling her throat with a lead weight she'd been carrying since _The Flying Dutchman_ had carried off James. She wasn't sure if it was guilt or honour or love that was driving her to go so far; that made her feel so empty. Possibly it was the combination of all of it. But it was crushing her, and at twenty-two, it was just so much more than she could bear.

"Well missy, hope he's worth the salt of your tears." A roughened voice said softly in her ear as the warmth of a human settled down beside her. Annalise stiffened, but didn't yet look up. At this point she felt so low she was willing to take solace from even a crazy pirate. "Now, it can't be all that bad. Just some dirty pirate run off with your heart. But not your real heart, o' course, that'd be madness. Rum?" Through her blurry eyes Annalise watched an unlabeled bottle of rum intercept her clear view of sand. With tired hands she grabbed the bottle and took a swig, still not meeting the pirate's eyes.

"I knew a great love story once." The pirate continued, his voice strangely comforting to Annalise. "Didn't happen to me, more's the shame. She was a gorgeous girl." Annalise listened to the man take another swig of his rum, watching it dully as it swung back into her reach. "Dangerous though. Killed me once." Annalise snorted at that one. "She did. Bloody chained me to the mast of me own ship." Annalise listened to the man take another swig of rum, her eyes widening ever so slightly. "But she went for the other guy. Prob'ly for the best though mate, I'm not the marryin' type."

Annalise searched for her voice, but found herself still unable to look up. "You know, sat with her once, on a sandy shore, drinkin' rum." Annalise felt an arm slide around her shoulders and for a moment, a single fleeting moment she felt herself relax into it, soaking up the comfort, no matter how empty it was, that touch could bring. Then her voice interrupted the moment. "Uncle Jack?" she whispered softly, her eyes rising finally to the kohl-darkened eyes of the pirate who sat so close beside her.

"Annie-belle?" Jack cried, scrambling to his feet in an instant. "Now I was not, absolutely not puttin' any moves on ye, right?" He stood a few feet away, his hands raised almost defensively, his painted eyes wide.

"Uncle Jack!" Annalise said again, relief for having finally found the man she'd been searching for spreading across her face. "I am so happy to see you!" She cried, throwing her arms around the pirate. "I've been looking for you for ages. Where the hell have you been?" She found herself trailing off though as she pulled away. "You look… so young." She heard herself whisper.

"Aye." Jack said with a smile. "Fountain of youth and all. Didn't think you'd seen the last of me, had ya?" He frowned suddenly. "And what was I always tellin' you about it being _Captain_ Uncle Jack?"

Annalise nodded furiously. "Yes, yes, Captain Uncle Jack. It doesn't matter." She grabbed Jack's hand. "C'mon. I needed you like three years ago, so now we're running late." Thoughts of commandeering a ship were already running through Annalise's head. The mysterious little compass that would guide her to her heart's desire, and her ticket to finding Calypso finally secured.

"Uhh, Annie-belle," Jack said, raising his finger into the air, "Don't you think we should think about this a little? I mean your mom might not be so approving of me and…"

"And my plan," Annalise finished for him, having heard the speech on why there was really no need to rescue James Norrington from the dead dozens of times from her parents. "I know, I know. It's a terribly foolish plan. But it's all I can come up with. I mean, this is something I need to do." She paused, turning to Jack. "You understand, don't you Uncle Jack?" Desperate hope shone in Annalise's eyes. She could only hope that after helping her parents out so many times, he could help her too.

"Well, uh." Jack just stared at Annalise with a confused look on his face. "I mean, you're very pretty, don't get me wrong…"

"I know. I could have any guy. Mom says that all the time. But this isn't about love. It's about doing what's right, and keeping promises." Annalise stared up at Jack, who's gaze was looking rather odd all of the sudden. "So you'll help me, right? Now that you're all young again? You have all the time in the world for one more crazy adventure, right?"

"Well, I…" Jack trailed off, his eyes darting around the moonlit beach. "You got me lass. I'm your's. Direct me where to go and I shall follow." He bowed with a slight flourish, licking his lips slightly. "Captain Jack Sparrow at your service."

"Perfect!" Annalise cried, happiness and hope spread across her features for the first time in months. "Finally, I can save James!" She took off at a sprint across the sand. "C'mon Uncle Jack, we have to get going!"

Captain Jack Sparrow stood speechless on the tropical shoreline of the island of Tortuga. The moon shone brightly above, painting the sea's surface in silver. He stared after the young woman. "Alright," he said into the night, clapping his hands together, feeling foolish. "So definitely not what I thought I was agreeing to." He began to trudge after the young woman who was already telling him to hurry up. Instead he paused, shaking his head and bitterly taking another swig of rum. "James." He said softly. He stared after Annalise, "Not bloody James Norrington?" He yelled down the beach.

"Yes, of course." Annalise's voice carried back. "Would you hurry up already?"

Jack stared down at the near-empty bottle of rum and tipped the rest of its contents down his throat. "Who woulda thought I'd be rescuing the bloody commodore?" He grumbled. "Bloody Turners. Messed up the whole lot of them."


	22. Not on Your Life

_**Something Better**_

_Captain Jack Sparrow stood speechless on the tropical shoreline of the island of Tortuga. The moon shone brightly above, painted the sea's surface in silver. He stared after the young woman. "Alright," he said into the night, clapping his hands together, feeling foolish. "So definitely not what I thought I was agreeing to." He began to trudge after the young woman who was already telling him to hurry up. Instead he paused, shaking his head and bitterly taking another swig of rum. "Who woulda thought I'd be rescuing the bloody commodore?" _

**Chapter 22: Not on your life**

Annalise sat slouched on a chair in the depths of a shadow, a large hat pulled low over her eyes. From beneath the brim she could see Captain Jack Sparrow sitting lazily behind the table that stood before them both. "C'mon lads, join me crew." He called nonchalantly, his attention focused more upon the mug of ale in his hand that Annalise had herself paid for. She sighed softly, fidgeting.

"An' what ship be you sailing with?" A middle-aged pirate demanded, a grimy fist hitting the table in front of Sparrow.

Sparrow opened his mouth, paused, raised a finger artfully, and then opened his mouth again. "I find that the name of my fine vessel escapes me at the present moment, as it were, but I can assure you that she is of the finest…"

"Bull." The man cried drunkenly. "I'll bet you don't even got the coin to pay up!" He turned around to face several other drunken pirate scum, a broad laugh escaping his lips.

Annalise rested a hand softly on Jack's arm, even as his hand edged towards the hilt of his sword. "We don't need any trouble, Jack. Just let it go. They're drunk anyway."

"But he don't even recognize me!" Jack announced in a stage whisper. "The drunken son of a goat don't even know Captain Jack Sparrow!" Annalise could feel him rising out of his seat and roughly pulled him back down by the shoulder.

"And I don't give a rat's ass who recognizes you or not, Uncle Jack. I just don't want another bar brawl." She gave him a dark glare. "You _know_ what happened last time."

"Say you're lookin' for a few good deckhands?" A youthful voice interrupted. Annalise glanced up, only to almost instantly duck her head back down.

"Is that Annalise?" The young man exclaimed. "Oh boy, if we'll be sailin' with her, sign me up, old man."

Annalise sighed, partly at Jack's look of consternation and partly at the young man before them. "Sampson," she said softly, "We're sailing somewhere very dangerous."

"But if it's with you…" the young man began.

"Really really dangerous." Annalise continued, her tone darkening. "So dangerous, in fact…"

"Ain't that just a good reason to have me along?" The young man interrupted again, his head cocked slightly to the side. "Then I can save ya from the dangers we be facin'."

Annalise shook her head in frustration. "We don't have a ship, Sampson." She said bluntly. "We have nothing to pay you with."

"Oi, that's alright then." Sampson said brightly. Annalise almost smiled with relief. "Me dad's got a ship we can borrow for adventurin' in."

Annalise wanted to find a large dark hole to crawl into at that moment.

"Well, ain't that peachy." Jack said brightly, rubbing his hands together. "Now we're in action, eh lass?"

Annalise nodded with resignation. "Sampson, this is my Uncle, Jack Sparrow."

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow." Jack inserted. "_Captain _Jack Sparrow, at your service." He tipped his hat and smiled brightly at the young man who's eyes were widened like saucers.

"_The_ Captain Jack Sparrow?" The young man replied eagerly. A confused look filled his brown eyes, "But I thought 'e was old."

"Aye, I was. But Captain Jack Sparrow has more up his sleeves than people believe." He gave the young man a wink. "Fountain of youth, found it meself."

* * *

So Annalise sat slouched on a chair, sitting in a shadow with a hat low over her eyes, more in an attempt to strain out Sampson's annoyingly jolly and hopeful banter than in order to avoid recognition. "O' course we'll hafta go in at night to take the ship." He was saying. "I can't actually let me pop know we're taking the _Fearless_." Annalise slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. But then again, she did know better than to expect anything else from pirates.

"Setting sail tomorrow night?" A burly man was asking Jack at that moment. "Let me have a mug or two an' I'll tell ye my intentions." The man was just turning away when he swung his head back towards the pirate captain. "Ye know, ye look mighty akin to one Jack Sparrow."

"That be because I am me." Jack replied with a smile. "Glad to see someone in this poor excuse for a port can recognize the face of a legendary talent…"

The man had burst out laughing. "That just be the funniest thing, trying to pass your sorry self off as Jack."

"Captain Jack." Jack sputtered, slightly flabbergasted.

The man continued laughing. "That's real good. Ya even sound like 'im." He lifted a hand to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. "The last time I seen ol' Jack he was grey as a donkey's ass and half deaf. You don't be foolin' me nor anyone, kid."

Jack stood in shock. "But… I am me." He said sorrowfully, his gaze darting around the bar, at the crowds of people laughing broadly, raising toasts to his apparent acting skill.

"It is him." Sampson said suddenly, standing from his seat beside Annalise.

"No, Sampson," Annalise gasped, attempting to pull the young man back into his seat, "Don't say…"

"It's the fountain o' youth that did it. The ol' aqua de vida." The room went silent. Sampson just smiled, ignorant of the frantic looks on Jack and Annalise's faces. "Hard to believe, but he wen' an' found it, he did. Just look," he gestured at Jack. "No one could pull it off but the man 'isself an' y'all know that."

"Ye foun' the fountain o' youth, Jack?" An older man gasped from the crowd. Jack looked at the old man and gave a short nod, his eyes suddenly searching for the floor.

At the end of the night, Annalise just nodded to Jack. "Look at the bright side, at least now we have no shortage of crew members. And we don't even need to come up with the coin to pay them"

He nodded miserably back. "Just one wee problem lass." He paused, his hands a blur of nervous motion. "I don't quite, exactly… that is… its slipped away from my grasp…"

Annalise turned her gaze as she finished the statement. "You don't remember where it was."

From the corner of her eye she saw Jack nodding his head. "But there is a bright side to that too." He said suddenly. "If the adventurin' with your mum was anything to go by, most of these blokes won't live long enough to know of my not knowin'."

"Very comforting, Jack." Annalise muttered. "Very comforting."

* * *

The water was calm the night they set sail from Tortuga on the stolen ship, the _Fearless_. A stiff breeze saw them out of the harbour and out onto the wide waters of the Caribbean Sea. "So how'd ya find the fountain of youth?" Sampson asked suddenly, a guileless smile upon his face and adventure in his eyes, as he tied a rope down securely.

Jack Sparrow lounged languidly, his sharp eyes which followed the young woman who was brazenly giving orders to the crew, betraying his awareness. The question drew him away from the subject of his scrutiny, however, and a look of confusion entered his eyes. "How?" He asked innocently.

"Yeah," the young man replied eagerly. "Were there savages or swampy wilds? Or was it a harrowin' race to the fountain, ev'ry man for 'isself?"

A guarded looked crossed Jack's features. He leaned his head forward conspiratorially, "Well mate," he began in a voice of hushed solemnity, "Do you know anything about sea turtles?"

"Sea turtles?" Sampson replied, his eyes wide.

"I do." A voice rang out from behind the two men. "I know for damn sure you can't strap them to your feet or ride them or tie them together to form any sort of raft." Both men turned their heads just as Annalise walked by, a smirk upon her lips. "And don't try to argue otherwise, Uncle Jack." She said, patting Jack's shoulder as she passed by. "Mom tried." She gave a quick wink before disappearing around the mast.

"Luv," Jack Sparrow drawled in the direction she rushed off to, "You're spoilin' my fun." At the lack of reply Jack shook his head. Closing his eyes he leaned back, "Hope ol' Norry knows what 'e's getting' 'isself into with that one."

Very suddenly there was a long pause that hung in the air. "Norry?" Sampson asked finally, the bright tone lost from his voice. He gazed expectantly at Jack, who remained oblivious to the momentary crisis the young man was facing.

"Commodore James Norrington." Jack replied crisply. "Ex-commodore actually. I believe his dyin' stripped away 'is rank, what with those Navy-types not believin' in returnin' from the dead and all." Jack cracked open one kohl-marked eye, witnessing the disbelieving blankness of Sampson's face. "She hasn't told you this one?" Jack said lazily, casually pointing an elbow in Annalise's direction.

Sampson shook his head slowly, solemnly, a slightly squashed air about him. "Well then," Jack said, a smirk growing upon his lips as he straightened up and rubbed his hands together. "Who isn't up for a good story?" Without waiting for a reply from his one man audience, Jack began his narrative.

"So once upon a time there was a merry British Navy type, the scourge o' the seas, 'e was called. Though by merry I be meanin' solemn and havin' no fun, o' course. In any case, the poor bloke falls for a Gov'nor's daughter, who runs off with a blacksmith." There was a dramatic pause. "Through the intricate and unknowable workings of fate, the poor idiot still ended up dying for her, as it were." He raised a finger suddenly, "But that's not the end of ol' Norry. For the ungrateful wench goes and has kids with the blacksmith fellow, and one just happens to be a daughter. Who goes makin' deals with the sea goddess." Jack paused, raising his eyebrows strategically and nodding his head towards Annalise.

"Annalise?" Sampson gasped, his gaze flicking rapidly between the back of Annalise's head and the grave nod of Jack Sparrow. "With," Sampson gulped, "Calypso?" His voice was hushed.

Jack Sparrow grinned. "That ain't the 'alf of it." He replied, his hand waggling before the young man's grim face. "She brought back the good ex-commodore." His voice dropped to a hush. "And the sense I get was that the two were growin' quite close when Calypso pulled 'im back to the land of the dead." He leaned back, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.

Sampson was staring hard at the wooden deck of the ship. "And where is it we're going?" He asked softly, his voice slightly strained.

"To see the old sea witch 'erself," Jack replied, "Though best you not be tellin' the rest o' the crew of that."

"So this is all about gettin' this… Norrington… back?" The young man continued, not really expecting an answer from the now-silent Jack Sparrow. "Because she's in love with him?"

"It's got nothing to do with love." A steely voice echoed from behind him. Annalise was glaring at the two men. "I got him into the mess, I promised to get him out of it." She stared hard at Jack. "And unlike some, Turner's keep their word." With that she stamped away, fury rolling off her back in near-tangible waves.

Sampson stared after her for a long moment. He turned his gaze back to Jack. "Does that mean," he began, a hopeful look upon his face, "That I still have a chance?"

"Not on your life." Jack replied solemnly, his fingers unconsciously stroking his moustache. "Not on your life."


	23. Three Years

_**Something Better**_

"_It's got nothing to do with love." A steely voice echoed from behind him. Annalise was glaring at the two men. "I got him into the mess, I promised to get him out of it." She stared hard at Jack. "And unlike some, Turner's keep their word." With that she stamped away, fury rolling off her back in near-tangible waves._

_Sampson stared after her for a long moment. He turned his gaze back to Jack. "Does that mean," he began, a hopeful look upon his face, "That I still have a chance?"_

"_Not on your life." Jack replied solemnly, his fingers unconsciously stroking his moustache. "Not on your life."_

**Chapter 23: Three Years**

"James?" The captain's voice interrupted the reverie of James Norrington, as he stared searchingly out into the formless fog. He didn't turn his head as the younger man continued to speak. "James. You know I would never bring this up if I didn't think something had to be said." A statement strange enough to attract James' attention.

With James' green eyes focused piercingly upon him, the young captain could only sigh. "How long do you believe you have been on board _The Flying Dutchman_?"

A look of confusion passed briefly through James' eyes. "Surely no great length of time." He said, his voice betraying his uncertainty. "Under a year?" His tone was more hopeful than assured, nothing like those he used when giving directions to fellow crew members, or that which he used to help introduce new crew members to life aboard the strange ship.

Captain Bridgely noticed this with a careful eye. James Norrington had become a nearly indispensable part of his crew and at the very least a good friend. It was the latter that was causing him to speak, for he would gladly keep James on as crew upon his ship until eternity extinguished them all, but every fibre of his being rejected such a tactic. Honesty was called for in all things to Bridgely's mind. "James," he began quietly, "Our original agreement was that you would work aboard the ship for a year. I'm afraid I neglected to tell you when that point passed in my desire to keep you aboard."

There was silence from James. The calmness in his green eyes belied the fact that he had guessed as much.

Bridgely nodded slowly. "It's been over three years, James."

He couldn't help but admire the former Navy-man for his stoicism. He barely blinked as the news washed over him. Over three years, and the man had lost track of time, and was still pinning his hopes on a young woman – one who in the course of three years may have found someone or something else to pursue. Yet if the man had any doubts, he barely showed them at all.

James cleared his throat. "Well, thank you for telling me, Captain." He replied stiffly, turning his gaze back upon the moving breaths of fog. The soft out-rushing of air that escaped his lips would have been missed by most men, but Captain Bridgely noted it with dissatisfaction, wondering if he had done right in telling the man this uncomfortable truth.

"If there's anything I can do…" the man began uncomfortably, "Just know that I value you as crew upon my ship, and as a friend. Whatever you should choose, know I set no demands of you. In as much as I can grant you, you are a free man." He stood there for a long moment before turning on his heel, a haggard look upon his features. It pained him to see James' story unwinding with yet more disappointment. He'd had such faith in that Miss Annalise Turner. But with three long years and more lost, could he still continue to expect anything from the young woman? Could James? An idea formed nebulously in his mind, crystallizing into a determined plan. There was, after all, one way to find out.

* * *

James turned away from the fog and the formless grey, leaning heavily upon the wooden rail behind him, and focusing his gaze upon something thick and solid: the mast. Which simply brought to mind the stories of how Elizabeth had tricked Sparrow into going down with his ship, and how she had rushed off to save the man, irregardless of all else. "Three years." He murmured roughly. Was it fair of him to put all his hopes upon Annalise? After all, the age difference between the two had been great, and while they had become close friends… was there ever any promise of great romance or any lasting relationship? Certainly he'd never proposed to her, and it couldn't possibly be fair to hold her to promises made in those last moments before he had been taken aboard_The Flying Dutchman_. 

He lifted a hand to cover his eyes. He was tired of fog; tired of waiting with no sense of time, tired of being disappointed. He had had a second chance at life, and it had been good, as short as it had been. Its abrupt ending – well perhaps that had been for the best as well. Elizabeth had left him in the end, was it so certain that Annalise wouldn't have eventually too? He closed his eyes and tried to relive those precious moments he had spent with Annalise. Moments of laughter and surprise, adventure, and that dangling precious hope of something more developing between them. He tried to picture her: her sun-bleached hair, laughing eyes, and dreamy disposition. It pained him that the memories were incomplete. Details were missing, perhaps gone forever.

But he loved her. Or had loved her. Or still loved her. Even of this he was no longer sure. Time and distance blurred it all painfully, forcing the feelings and memories to coalesce into a tight weight upon his heart. A weight he feared he might be forced to carry forever; for no matter the doubts that now spun around his head, he couldn't bear the thought of casting these feelings from his mind and heart altogether.

"James." He turned his head wearily to regard the captain.

"More bad news for me?" He asked with dull sarcasm. He wasn't sure what else the man could tell him at this point.

The man had the decency to look ashamed. "I thought you may want to know that I've found a way for you to look upon Annalise."

James stared at the man in shock. "You mean to spy on her?"

The captain looked rather frustrated for a moment. "I suppose, but James, this is the only way for you to know whether she is still…"

"Thinking of me?" James finished, his expression emotionless.

"It's the only thing I could think to do." Bridgely finished lamely.

James shook his head. For the ghost captain of a ghost ship, Captain Bridgely was far too much of a romantic. A sensitive soul beneath the façade of strength and power he wore much of the time. "Alright, I'll try your method. Mostly to force you to refrain from interrupting my thoughts again." He forced a tight smile upon his lips, though if he were to be honest with himself, it was trepidation that filled his heart.

Upon entering the Captain's quarters, Bridgely gestured for James to sit down in the finely-crafted wooden seat before the Captain's desk. Settling down upon his own seat, he reached into a deep drawer and removed an oddly-shaped bundle. Unwinding swaths of fabric, he pulled out a crystal ball.

James shot to his feet. "You must be joking me!" He exclaimed, fury momentarily crossing his features. "You expect me to put any amount of faith into a_crystal ball_? The tool of gypsies and harlots?"

The captain laughed. "Don't let Calypso catch you saying such things." He reprimanded with a smile, "She's the one who gave me this." A wistful look crossed his features. "I do have a wife and children, James. Though my children are now having children of their own, I'm afraid." He gestured at the ball. "I've shared precious fractions of moments with them with this. A gift from Calypso in return for my services."

James sat back down in his chair, subdued by the bittersweet grimace upon Bridgely's lips. "A bribe you mean." He replied softly.

"Be that as it may," Bridgely replied, "I thought you might profit from its use as well." He frowned slightly. "Of course you need not feel obliged to. It was merely a whimsical notion of mine."

Honour told him that he should lift himself from his chair and leave the room, but a sense of perversity, of shaken faith, glued James to his seat. Numbly, he shook his head. "I want to see."

* * *

The swirl of grey fog that filled the ball was nothing new to James' eyes. But in moments it hardened, sharpened, and coloured into images of flickering movements and blurred faces. "You need to focus," Bridgely advised. Suddenly, a face came clear. 

James gasped softly, for it was undoubtedly Annalise. Older, her eyes a little harder, and a grimmer set to her mouth, but his Annalise nonetheless. The picture panned out, showing her seated near the railing of a ship, her hands clasped tightly about themselves, her knuckles showing white. Her eyes seemed focused upon him, though James could only suppose that they were actually focused upon the ocean's waves. An activity he knew far too well. Was she thinking of him? Her eyes told him nothing of her thoughts.

A hand, followed by an arm, followed by a second figure, moved into the picture. Bridgely gasped, "That's Jack Sparrow!"

"No." James murmured. "I saw him before. He was old, grey haired." His mouth was dry, for there was no denying that the man who now sat beside Annalise, pulling her eyes towards him, and drawing her lips into a soft smile, was Jack Sparrow.

"Stranger things have happened than a man becoming young again." Bridgely murmured in reply, a knowing look upon his face.

James watched tight-lipped as Sparrow chatted gaily to his Annalise, forcing even laughter from her rosy lips. Her eyes, however, were inevitably drawn back towards James (the sea, he reminded himself firmly). Sadness seemed to wash over her, and James watched, painfully clenching his fists, as a tear washed down the side of Annalise's sun burnt face. He ground his teeth as the dirty hand of the pirate settled upon her shoulder – a shoulder James now noticed was covered in a dirty shirt such as any pirate would wear. He winced as the hand became an arm wrapping around Annalise's frame. "Enough." He cried, turning his gaze, though his focus didn't waver and the image continued playing.

"James." Bridgely murmured, his voice harsh. "James, would you just watch?"

The strange tone forced James' eyes back upon the crystal, for he could imagine no reason why the captain would wish him more pain. His eyes widened in surprise. For now Annalise was standing, one of Sparrow's wrists twisted painfully about by one of her small hands. A dagger was in her other hand, leveled against his throat, and from the look on her face, James could only imagine the wrath that the pirate was currently facing.

"What did he do?" He asked, bewilderment colouring his usually calm voice.

"I believe he may have pinched her bottom." Bridgely replied, a crooked grin across his face. He looked up at James, "She certainly seems to be every bit as fiery as her mother."

James managed a weak smile, though his eyes were still riveted upon the woman in the picture, who had by now dismissed the pirate from her presence. She now stood at the rail of the ship that James guessed she was likely captain of. Her eyes seemed dark with emotion, and were oddly searching. James found his breath catching in his throat as she peered intently out of the crystal ball. There was truly no denying the feelings within his heart. If he could ever find a way out of this trap, a permanent way back to the realm of the living, he would find a way to get her back, to keep her, to stay with her.

It was a silent room that witnessed Annalise whisper a single syllable, and while neither man could be completely sure, that single syllable had looked remarkably like the whispering of James' name. There was no uncertainty in James' heart at that moment that he was as much on her mind as she was on his. He looked up at Bridgely for a long moment, his green eyes filled with turmoil and the fury of a beating heart. "I'll stay until she finds me."


	24. All Roads Led Here

Something Better

_**Something Better**_

_It was a silent room that witnessed Annalise whisper a single syllable, and while neither man could be completely sure, that single syllable had looked remarkably like the whispering of James' name. There was no uncertainty in James' heart at that moment that he was as much on her mind as she was on his. He looked up at Bridgely for a long moment, his green eyes filled with turmoil and the fury of a beating heart. "I'll stay until she comes."_

Chapter 24: All Roads Led Here

Annalise stared hard at the island before her. Mangroves rose out of the ocean, masking any potential shoreline. Only a series of channels wound their way inland between the winding roots of the trees. Moss hung heavily from the twisting branches and strange bird cries echoed out across the water to her. She brushed a loose strand of hair across her forehead, wincing slightly at the salt-crisped texture of it. When was the last time she had had a chance to really brush her hair? When had she last worn a dress?

The sky was darkening around her, but Annalise knew there would be no waiting for daylight for this trip. By the end of this night she would be face to face with that treacherous goddess, and she would fight her case – James' case. And if all went right (and that it might not wasn't an option she was willing to consider), she would be free of this soon. Free of pirates and dirty clothes, free of this tepid desperation and strangling guilt.

She turned around, debating whether she should ask if anyone was going to be accompanying her and Jack. She found a smile twitching on her lips as she noticed Sampson lowering the dingy they would paddle inland. "S'all ready, Captain." He said with a weary smile. "An' I'll be goin' with ye. Jack already said." Annalise just nodded, trust Jack to find someone else to paddle the little boat.

"Is it absolutely necessary that I be along on this one?" Jack interjected suddenly, from behind Annalise.

"You're the only one who knows the way." Annalise replied sweetly, her voice a tad acidic. She still had yet to forgive the man – her uncle for all intensive purposes – for attempting to put the moves on her. As if she didn't have enough trouble keeping Sampson's attentions off her, now she had what? Two suitors aboard? She shook her head. Perhaps in Sampson there was something like a suitor, but she had no doubt in her mind that what Jack had in mind was something decidedly less long term. Now wasn't the time to think of such things though. Now she needed a clear head.

The small boat wound its way slowly through the swampy channels, traveling deeper and deeper into the mangrove swamp, even as the sky darkened. Slowly Annalise realized that among the mangroves there were people. Dark faces peered out at the three, and the small flames of candles began to line the shores, guiding the boat toward its destiny.

A small hut appeared very suddenly as they rounded a bend in the channel. Everything was quiet and still save the splash of the oars, and even that seemed solemn and muted. There was a scrape as the boat pulled up along the rough dock. "Mind the boat." Jack ordered Sampson, gesturing for Annalise to climb out ahead of him. "There," he hissed, "I've brought you here, now hurry up so we can go."

"What? Are ye scared, Jack?" A richly melodic voice interrupted as Calypso, in the form of Tia Dalma, stood in the doorway.

"Terrified." Jack murmured, backing up behind Annalise. "It's the girl who wants to see you."

"Ah yes, dear bloody Anna," the voice caressed the name with just a hint of mocking laughter, "Ratha be wearin' a dress than weildin' the sword, but 'ere she be. Fightin' for 'er love."

Annalise swallowed, her typical reply heavy on her tongue. The words didn't leave her mouth, however. Said like that, there was little she could do to deny the truth. Every ounce of her being was clinging to the hope that by rescuing James she could earn his forgiveness. And even that… well, there was a reason she hadn't looked at a single man these last three years.

Calypso smiled knowingly, motioning the two into her hut. Her smile took on a touch of wicked malice as Jack entered and was forced to face her in the light. "But it be you I'm wantin' to see, wicked Jack. Ye been avoidin' me. After all I done for ye."

Jack glanced nervously around the room, taking in the hanging cages filled with dead things, the jars and bottles of strange liquids and powders. "And what would that be, exactly?" He replied smartly, without looking the sea goddess in the eye.

"I directed ye to the fountain o' youth." She replied harshly, all amusement lost from her voice.

"I… no." Jack began. "I got there myself. I had the map. I had the rum."

"Ye were lost. And old. And uglier than e'er." Calypso finished for him. "Ye couldn' find the fountain e'en when ye were young. Did ye think ye'd gotten smarter?" She cackled.

Annalise watched the exchange with empty eyes, a strange feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

"It took me jus' o'er three years to get back to Tortuga!" Jack replied, his eyes wide and hands articulating frustration.

"Ye weren't intendin' to be visitin' me." Calypso spat back. "I caen tell ye'r intentions."

Annalise watched with darkening eyes. "Three years." She whispered, frustration edging her voice as her eyes watered.

"I would have visited…" Jack began, but it was too much for Annalise.

"Shut up." She interrupted. "Just shut up, Jack." There was a strange emptiness to her eyes, a tremulous tone to her voice. She turned to face Calypso. "Are you saying…" She stopped, breathing deeply, "Are you saying that you took James away just so I would eventually bring _Jack_ here, to you?"

Calypso smiled sweetly, her dark yes flashing dangerously. "If'n that be case, ye 'ave no say in eet."

"But it's not fair!" Annalise gasped, patently ignoring the puzzled look upon Jack's face.

"They be my souls." Calypso hissed.

"Then I can have him back now?" Annalise demanded, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Eef I get Jack." Calypso replied with flashing eyes.

"He's all your's." Annalise replied brusquely. "Now how do I get James back?"

Jack sputtered. "You're givin' me up, love?"

Annalise rolled her eyes. "Not your 'love' Uncle Jack," she replied with a taunt smile. "You're my illegitimate thieving, whoring, pirate uncle." To her consternation Jack looked oddly proud at that. She shook her head with disgust, "If the goddess of the sea wants you, you're all her's. Means I can get you off my ship."

Calypso smiled mysteriously. "Not exactly." She replied in hushed tones. "My wicked Jack be taking the place o' your faithful James."

It took both women only a second to grab Jack by the arms as he spun on his heel and prepared to bolt out the door, already yelling at Sampson to push off from the dock.


	25. Nothing Else Worth Living For

_**Something Better**_

_Calypso smiled mysteriously. "Not exactly." She replied in hushed tones. "My wicked Jack be taking the place o' your faithful James."_

_It took both women only a second to grab Jack by the arms as he spun on his heel and prepared to bolt out the door, already yelling at Sampson to push off from the dock._

**Chapter 25: Nothing Else Worth Living For**

Standing on the deck of the ship, Jack watched the sunset, a growing sense of consternation and frustration in his stomach. He'd tried escaping earlier that day, only to find half the crew and Calypso preventing it from working out. And truly, hell hath no fury like a goddess scorned. He wrinkled his forehead, things were looking pretty hopeless from here.

"Jack, wicked wicked Jack," the voice curled around the air it traveled through, rich as dark chocolate, "why be you runnin' away from all ye desire?"

"What I desire?" Jack sputtered. "What I desire is a tad more freedom than forced labour on a ghost ship! I want me Pearl, and the open ocean." Jack gestured weakly at the sun-stained waves.

Calypso's laughter was haunting. "Freedom, Jack?" She prompted. "But ye wanted to be captain o' the Dutchman, or have ye forgot?"

Jack opened his mouth to retort, only to find a lack of words forthcoming. He stared hard at the woman. "Captain?"

"Bridgely's wife be dyin'." She murmured cryptically. "We're headin' to where he be headin', even 'gainst his law and code." She turned her gaze out upon the ocean. "I lose all me captains, "she murmured into the wind, "all to love." She turned her gaze upon Jack. "That's why I be needin' a man who's only love be the sea."

The twisted gears and cogs that made up Jack Sparrow's mind were whirring. It was true, he had entertained the notion of becoming captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ once upon a time. A lifetime ago it seemed now. But really, eternal life, at the helm of a ship that none could stop, for the small price of ferrying the souls of those lost at sea… it was still just as enticing now as it had ever been. "And that'd be me." He finished for the capricious goddess.

He found himself rewarded with a smile that spoke of the ocean's darkest shimmering depths.

* * *

"Doncha feel jus' a little bad about turnin' over your uncle?" Sampson interrupted Annalise's thoughts.

"Not particularly." She replied curtly. "Uncle Jack has never been anything more or less than a wicked scoundrel out to save his own skin."

Sampson was quiet for a long moment. "You're still in a twist over that scene you had with him."

Annalise spun around, "What are you talking about?" A blush had risen into her cheeks.

"Ya know," he replied softly, "When he tried to pull the moves on ye. Which I coulda tol' him was a bad idea. E'eryone knows how touchy you are about, well, touchin'."

"I'm not touchy!" Annalise sputtered. "He's my uncle! It's the concept that's the problem here."

The young man shook his head. "Anna, 'e's not your real uncle. And its not jus' him you push away. Its e'ery man who tries to get close to ya." His eyes were focused intently upon the young woman. "'e really got into yer 'eart, did'n 'e? This Norrington fella." His voice was soft and warm, if a little sorrowful.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Annalise replied curtly and spun on her heel, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have course adjustments to make."

"Anna." Sampson's voice was soft and earnest. "Ye know its alright to admit ye love 'im, don't ya?"

Annalise let her shoulders sag as she paused, her back still turned to Sampson. "What if he doesn't want me?" She whispered brokenly, voicing the single fear she had been carrying for all these years. "I betrayed him Sampson. Betrayed his trust. How could he forgive me that?"

Sampson snorted softly. "Anna, any man who didn' let ya get away with murder would hafta be blind and an idiot. O' course he wants ya. E'ery man on this ship wants ya Anna." He shook his head, "If'n he doesn' want ya, I'll slap 'im around until he sees reason. Sees jus' what 'e's got in you."

Annalise couldn't help but smile at that. "Thank you Sampson," she murmured softly, her back still turned to him. "But I'm afraid I'm still going to need to see him before I can believe all that." With that she walked away, her steps light and dainty as she crossed the deck.

Sampson watched her walk away with a shake of his head. "Ye deserve 'im love. Yer a lady playin' at being a bloody pirate, and its wearin' ye down."

* * *

The ship was floating just offshore of a small island as dawn broke the sky. "Any moment." Calypso breathed, her dark eyes trained upon the horizon, as a sharp piercing green light flashed against the horizon. "Now." She murmured, a tight smile across her lips. "e's violating my laws, and e'll lose 'is life for it."

Annalise cast a sharp glance over at the sea goddess. "What do you mean?" she replied in soft tones that only thinly veiled her horror. The captain hadn't seemed such a bad sort really.

"It's death or squid lips." Jack stated brusquely from behind Annalise. "And 'is death will make me captain, so that's evidently the better option. Less ugly too."

"You, captain?" Annalise stammered. "Of the _Flying Dutchman_?"

"Course, love." He replied, not meeting Annalise's eyes. "What else did you think Tia wanted me for? Deckhand? A tad overqualified ain't I?"

Annalise shook her head, uncertain what to believe. She remembered her mother's stories; Jack had planned on stabbing the heart himself, all those years ago. Was it really possible that this was what Calypso had decided on? She frowned. The captain she had met had seemed so proper, so good and determined, surely this betrayal of Calypso's laws couldn't have been predicted? She found herself gazing at the sea goddess, wondering exactly how much she knew, how far she could see.

"Further than ye can dream." Calypso murmured into her ear. Winking darkly at her shocked face, Calypso ordered the rowboat down.

Annalise followed Jack and Calypso into the boat, only to be joined by Sampson. He turned to her and gave a halfhearted shrug, "Someone 'as to row the boat, Captain." Annalise gave a small nod, trepidation growing in her heart even as the _Flying Dutchman_ grew in size, as it traveled ever nearer to the island.

Calypso led the way towards a small, but neat, house, nestled within lovely gardens and within view of the ocean. She pushed open the door confidently and stepped in, ushering her three followers in as well, leading them into the bedroom of the small house. The wife of the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ was still lovely, despite her frailty. She was older than Annalise had expected, but then, the captain had said he had sailed under her father for years, though he had seemed rather young to her eyes. The woman drew her breath slowly, sleeping. Annalise stepped closer. The woman appeared to be in her late fifties, streaks of grey running through her hair. "She's not all that much older than mother." She murmured softly, suddenly feeling a bolt of regret for not having spent more time with her parents these past few years.

The door opened with a bang, and Annalise looked up in surprise. Two faces greeted her: one the captain she had met on that fateful day, and the other… "James." She whispered softly, her voice catching in her throat as her eyes caught his.

Annalise and James stood frozen from the moment their eyes made contact. There was nothing Annalise would have rathered than to run into his arms, but she somehow found her feet glued into place upon the floorboards. She wanted to say so many things, but her tongue was plastered to the roof of her mouth. She was frozen, and she so desperately needed him to make the first move. To forgive her.

* * *

James stood stock still. Standing there, by the bedside of his captain's dying wife, was the woman he had been waiting for. Here, of all the places in the world, she had found him. His name on her lips made something inside him contract, caught his breath in his throat. She was so beautiful.

"Calypso," the captain murmured softly, stepping past James to tip his hat to the sea goddess who stood off to the side of the scene.

"Bridgely." Calypso replied. "Ye should be at sea."

"My wife is dying." He replied, his voice tight in his throat. "I could not simply ignore that fact."

"It is your duty to ignore that fact." Calypso's voice took on a more solemn tone. "But it is no matter. I have a replacement for you."

At that, James jerked his head and stared at the sea goddess. Beside her stood none other than Jack Sparrow, grinning as inanely as ever. "Sparrow?" He said finally. "Your replacement is Jack Sparrow?" His voice was incredulous. He blinked, realization stumbling upon him. "Replacement?" He repeated, his breath a ragged intake. "You mean to kill…?"

Calypso smiled darkly. "This is none of your concern James Norrington. I am finished with you." She gestured towards the bed, "It is not within your power to challenge fate."

James turned his head to see Bridgely slowly approaching the bed. Annalise stepped away, giving the man and his wife some space. "My love," Bridgely whispered softly, gently lifting a frail hand to his lips. "I've come home." He murmured against her pale skin.

"Robert?" A fragile voice whispered into the silent room. "Is that you?"

"It's me, my love." Bridgely whispered in reply. "I'm here."

"You've… come for me, then?" Her voice was soft, hesitant.

"I've come to see you, yes. I couldn't… I couldn't not come." Her murmured hoarsely, tears in his voice.

"And now we can be together." His wife's voice was strangely assured. "Now that we're both dead. We can be together." There was relief in her voice, a calm serenity.

Bridgely lifted his eyes, turning his head to meet Caylpso's gaze. She nodded magnanimously. Bridgely nodded in reply, a look of grateful relief spread across his features. He turned back to his wife. "Yes, my love," his whispered in reply. "Now we can be together."

There was a smile on her face as she slipped away. A look of calm certainty across her features. Bridgely bowed his head, resting his forehead upon her hand. After a long moment he reached under the bed and pulled out a chest that looked only too familiar to most of the room's occupants. "Here then." He said softly, sliding the chest across the smooth floor to where Jack stood next to Calypso. "Finish it now."

"But…" James began, his voice betraying his seeming composure.

"No James," Bridgely murmured. "This is what I want." He turned to look James straight in the eye, "There's nothing else worth living for," he turned his gaze to take in Annalise, "But love." He finished, nodding to her. He cast one last look back to his wife's body, still beautiful, but only a shell of the vibrant woman he had fallen in love with so many years ago. He looked to Calypso. "I'm ready." He said calmly.


	26. Moonlight

Something Better

_**Something Better**_

"_No James," Bridgely murmured. "This is what I want." He turned to look James straight in the eye, "There's nothing else worth living for," he turned his gaze to take in Annalise, "But love." He finished, nodding to her. He cast one last look back to his wife's body, still beautiful, but only a shell of the vibrant woman he had fallen in love with so many years ago. He looked to Calypso. "I'm ready." He said calmly. _

**Chapter 26: Moonlight**

For once, Annalise did not find herself leaning against a rail, staring out to sea. Instead she was within the captain's quarters, peering intently at a map, though her mind was most definitely elsewhere. The events of the day were still unsettled within her; so many fractured moments that she couldn't quite place. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting a small sigh escape her lips. Images of the crew of the _Flying Dutchman_ danced through her mind. How they assembled so quietly upon the beach in front of Jack. How calmly they set to crowding around him. The ray of light that reflected off a dagger just before she turned around, unable to face the sight. The heavy scent of blood. It was strange, the things that stuck with you, even when you knew everything had been alright.

She and James hadn't said a word directly to the other as they stood upon the beach, awkwardly watching Jack assume his role as the undead captain of the ghost ship. "Cheer up," he'd cried brightly to her, "You'll be seein' my handsome face again soon 'nough."

"In a decade," she'd replied uncertainly, as a sense of loss replaced her earlier anger at her uncle.

"An' I'll be keepin' 'is 'eart." Calypso had announced. "'is 'eart belongs to the sea." Which had seemed fair enough to Jack. An immortal Jack Sparrow had always been his dream.

He'd looked over to James for a brief moment. "C'mon commodore," he had cajoled the man, "Why the long face? Ol' Bridgely wanted it this way. An' if you're worried about my abilities to perform my duties…" A mask of horror spread over his animated features. "Just remember I could never risk Davey Jones' squid face." He'd sauntered off then, acquainting himself with his crew while enjoying his last few hours upon the sun-drenched sand of the shore, ignorant as ever of the repercussions of his actions upon other people.

He had hugged her goodbye. Just before the sun set. Stealing a kiss, "for good luck" or so he said. She hadn't had the heart to get angry. In fact, she had very nearly apologized for being angry at him before all of this. He had kept his word, in a roundabout way. She had James back… well, in body if nothing else. She had a message for her parents: "Captain Sparrow's last mortal words." She shook her head, even as she cast her gaze over to where the note sat upon the captain's desk. She still had trouble thinking of it as hers sometimes. A good thing, she supposed, since the ship would have to go back to its rightful owner now.

In the end, she was drawn up onto the deck by an inevitable stirring in her soul. She'd made no plans beyond getting James back, and now felt adrift within the world. Everything that had driven her onward and forward was now melted into a puddle of insecurity. Why, why did he not say anything to her? Perhaps she had done wrong after all.

It was with such thoughts that Annalise greeted the stars. They filled the sky from horizon to horizon, a hundred million pinpricks of light that seemed to shimmer above her, outshone only by the light of the crescent moon. She stepped up to the rail of the borrowed ship and exhaled a long, low gust of air. The waves danced, throwing back reflections of the moon and stars. A joyful expression of life set against the melancholy she felt.

"He was a good man." A voice said suddenly behind her. A voice that sent a tingle down her spine – it had been so long since she had heard it last, but it hadn't changed at all. "Bridgely, I mean." James cleared his throat behind her. "I know you didn't know him, but he was always honest, responsible, a great captain." There was a moment's pause. "He was my friend." He admitted softly.

Annalise didn't turn around, afraid that if she did it might all fall apart. He might disappear, all this nothing more than a dream. Or he could be angry at her. He might have preferred that life after all. So she held her breath instead, willing just a few more words from this man who had never been known for saying a great many of them.

"I knew you would come." He said softly, so softly she almost didn't hear him at all.

The admission made her heart stop. "I was so afraid you wouldn't want me to." She whispered in reply, her eyes blurring with tears. The clear landscape of starlight on waves melted into a pool of white light and dark blues behind them.

There was a long silence between the two. Annalise drew a ragged breath. "I missed you." The words sat heavily in the air as she chewed her lip nervously.

"I didn't go a day without thinking of you." James replied finally, his voice a rich warm sound that filled Annalise from her head to her toes. "I remembered the way you looked at me, just before I was taken aboard. It was the same look your mother had in her eyes when she was determined to rescue your father." There was soft rush of air near Annalise's ear as James stepped nearer to her. "I always wondered," he continued, "Whether that look was one of desperate determination or of... love." His voice was gentle, shy but firm. Requiring an answer.

Annalise breathed deeply, her tears choking her voice. "Do you – do you really need to ask that?" She stuttered, suddenly swamped by three years worth of longing that she had bottled up tightly within herself. She had been too afraid to feel, but had felt nonetheless.

"Annalise." His voice was slightly ragged. Cruel fingers of hope dragging across his throat as he dared to believe that for once, for once, he was the one who could come out of this with something gained.

"James." Annalise whispered, turning ever so slowly to face him. "Oh James," she breathed, tears in her eyes. "If you only knew what I've done. Everything I've had to become, everything I've done, to survive, to find you." The words came pouring out. She didn't feel worthy of him now. She was no lady, she was nothing at all, nothing but a dirty pirate in a torn shirt. To even pretend… even for a moment… that he still could want her… "Even this ship is stolen." She exclaimed.

And then there were strong arms wrapping themselves around her, and James' voice whispering softly into her ear that everything was alright now, that she had won, that everything had worked out, and all thanks to her. He whispered that she had been brave, that she had done only what she had to. He didn't even know – and he forgave her all of it. Annalise found herself burrowing closer to him. Beneath his still-crisp shirt she could feel his heart beating in his strong chest, muscles strengthened by years of life at sea curved protectively around her. She pushed against him suddenly, dimly aware that she had soaked his shirt with her tears. "But… I've become a pirate." She whispered softly, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes.

James was looking down at her, his eyes dark with unspoken emotion. With the utmost tenderness he pushed a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, letting his fingers brush the side of her shoulder ever so gently; not quite bold. "I once knew a man who despite appearing foolish at times, was likely one of the wisest men I have ever had the opportunity of knowing." The firm set of his lips quirked slightly into the fragile beginnings of a smile. "He said once, that on the rare occasion, pursuing the right course demands an act of piracy."

Annalise held her breath, the intenseness of his gaze coupling with his words to absolve her of all of this. Beneath his gaze she suddenly felt as if she were clothed in the finest silks, her body accentuated by a dress made of pure moonlight. "That man was your grandfather," He said softly, "About your mother's actions in saving the man she loved." His memories finally won the battle against ingrained decorum, and his lips spread into a smile. "So you see," he said softly, "I like to think I rather knew what I was getting into with her daughter."

Annalise exhaled very suddenly, a smile creeping across her own lips. And the stars shone down all around her, mixing with moonlight to drown the deck in pure silver, but all she really saw was James. All she really felt was a sudden realization of how close they stood, the heat of their bodies meeting in the narrow space between them and in a brief moment something flashed between their open eyes. And then the space was gone.


	27. Epilogue

Something Better

_**Something Better**_

_Annalise exhaled very suddenly, a smile creeping across her own lips. And the stars shone down all around her, mixing with moonlight to drown the deck in pure silver, but all she really saw was James. All she really felt was a sudden realization of how close they stood, the heat of their bodies meeting in the narrow space between them and in a brief moment something flashed between their open eyes. And then the space was gone._

**Epilogue**

The instant before his lips met Annalise's, he had thought briefly that he was being too bold. It had been over three years since he had last seen this lovely woman and even then he'd had no real claim to her heart. The instant that had followed eclipsed any such thoughts a hundred times over. Despite the sun and wind and salt of the sea, her lips were almost painfully soft as they brushed against his own. His arms tightened around her slender frame, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, thinking very suddenly that bold be damned. He loved this woman, and refused to lose her again. If it had taken him this long to learn to make a stand, at least he would prove that this was one lesson he had finally learned.

There was a breathless instant as they parted, their eyes searching each other's wildly. He felt an insistent tug behind his neck as Annalise pulled him back down into another kiss, and smiled, raising one hand to tangle itself in her hair. He pulled her even closer, feeling her body melt into his. They had parted again, for the most fleeting of moments as Annalise searched his eyes. "You're really here." She had breathed, so softly it constricted something in his chest. His only reply was to lean back down to her upturned face, brushing just one more kiss across her lips.

* * *

That night was still sharp in their minds now as they strolled through the streets of Tortuga. They had docked in the dead of night, hoping no one, or at least no one sober, would see them leave the ship. Their luck had held, and then it had simply been a matter of losing the unpaid crew.

They felt guilty, of course. Neither was particularly proud of leaving a dozen men unpaid, but since neither of them had a single belonging to their name; it was better this than winding up facing the men's anger. The couple walked close together, without touching, shyness replacing the need they'd felt during their hungry kisses aboard the ship. Eventually they ran out of streets.

"This is a path?" James had murmured softly, looking critically at the small hole in the jungle that Annalise seemed prepared to step into.

"It will be worth it," She replied, her eyes teasingly bright, "I promise. I used to come down here when I was a child and we were docked here. I never much liked pirates." She glanced down between her clothing and his for a brief moment as a smile spread across her face, "Looks like I judged a bit early on that one."

James shook his head as he followed her into the dark forest. He was surprised to see that the path was clearer than he had expected. Even the waning moonlight was enough to navigate it. He let a moment pass. "Where are we headed exactly?"

Annalise remained silent as they walked for several minutes. "Here," she said softly, gesturing ahead of her, to where the jungle dissolved into a sandy beach. The sky was already lightening ahead of them, the sun promising to rise directly before them. Annalise smiled and settled down onto the soft sand, stretching her legs out and running a hand lazily across the surface grains. "Watch the sunrise with me?" She asked softly, looking up to where James still stood, her voice soft, tinged with an almost childish innocence.

James settled down beside her, close as he could get without touching her. The old insecurities has risen back up within him, keeping him from being too familiar with her, despite the passion of the kisses they had shared before. He watched her as she gazed out upon the soft purples and pinks of the pre-dawn sky and the sun as it rose ever so slowly, a burning cherry-red softened by the slight mist that drifted across the water.

Annalise breathed deeply. "So what do we do now?" She asked, her voice tremulous.

"What do you mean?" James replied, content to sit here for another moment or two, watching Annalise.

"I… I never planned what I would do after I rescued you." Annalise admitted, more to the softly lapping waves than James himself. "I was always so focused on that, I never bothered to think…"

James reached out and touching the bottom of her chin ever so gently, raised her gaze to meet his. "You're so beautiful," he whispered softly, unexpectedly. He knew he had intended to say something far more… appropriate than that… but there was Annalise blushing, leaning ever so slightly into his touch. The kiss that followed was only natural.

At first he kissed her softly, his lips barely touching hers. It was Annalise who deepened the kiss, pulling him closer to her. They parted very slowly. "I love you." He heard himself whisper hoarsely, words he had not meant to say just yet, for all that they were true.

He found himself holding his breath, waiting for Annalise's response. He watched as her lips spread into a warm smile, her eyes dancing with hope and delight. "I love you too," she breathed. "I think I always have."

Sitting beneath the first golden rays of Caribbean sunshine, James Norrington found himself without title or rank, without land or a house to make a home. He had no money or chances of promotion; truly he had nothing at all by the standards of his old life. And here was Annalise, equally without, smiling up at him, and promising him something so much more wonderous than any of it; something better.

_The End  
_


End file.
